


just bend and we can learn to love again

by jaerie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A Bit of Anal, M/M, a bit of angst, and some other sexual stuffs, but not together - Freeform, harry and louis have kids, harry makes a good meg ryan, if you havent seen you've got mail go watch it, some non kid friendly bouncy castle activities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaerie/pseuds/jaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a single dad of twins just trying to get through each day one step at a time.  Harry has his own struggles as a young dad.  Maybe Louis' curiosity and nosiness has found just the friend that he needs in his life.  Maybe they both just need each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just bend and we can learn to love again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashleywritesthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleywritesthings/gifts).



> this was my first time participating in a fic exchange and it was definitely an experience featuring procrastination and stepping outside of my normal writer's box. 
> 
> to my prompter: i hope you enjoy but actually not really since i didnt enjoy writing this and i never received anything in return. i didnt mean for that to sound mean oops. i strayed a bit from your original prompt (it was very detailed!) but i hope i've hit enough points to fulfill what you were looking for! this definitely took on a life of its own and turned into a monster that i did not expect
> 
> to one of my wonderful betas: thank you for listening to me whine about procrastinating and for telling me to get to work. also for reading so many versions, telling me it didn't turn out to be shit and for suggesting a better title than i could come up with. 
> 
> also the name aiden doesn't apply to a particular person and didn't realize the aiden grimshaw implication until i was already done with the fic. imagine as you wish. 
> 
> :)

 

Despite being an endless day at the peak of summer, the sun woke in the morning and decided to take a vacation from lighting the world. The sun’s absence left dreary storm clouds ample room to take over the darkening sky, consuming the innocent fluffy bits with a menacing attack. The drops hit steadily against the glass window panes in an irritating succession of pitter patter for the better portion of the day. The constant reminder of the weather brought with it a case of cabin fever to anyone stuck indoors.

 

On this depressing day in Northern England, Louis Tomlinson makes his way down the sidewalk while simultaneously bracing himself for the next strike of bad luck. The sticky summer air clings heavily to his skin and feels unnatural in contrast to the chilled raindrops falling around him. His Vans had long since been soaked through trekking his way through the massive puddles covering the city, each footstep producing an uncomfortable squish in water logged footwear. His feet are already beginning to chafe in their unsocked state. The pruning of the skin on his wet feet is almost as uncomfortable as the gravity pulling down on his chest. None of these things compare to the encompassing feeling of self induced doubt and guilt. He takes the unfortunate series of events occurring around him as the world’s way of confirming his suspicions. The suspicion and now knowledge that he is an incompetent father.

 

Of course he knows at his core that he is not a bad father but now that he has assumed the role of the only parent in the picture, he feels the guilt that two parental figures usually share weighing down on him heavily. He is only human after all. Super dads don't actually exist no matter how much he wishes they do in his super hero mind. There are no capes, no time traveling, no ability to take care of everything in a blink of an eye. The only truths are the charades played out in public to hide the inner dysfunction that surely always exists behind closed doors. Louis wants so badly to earn a place as Super Dad. He wants that title so badly that he beats himself up each time his human short comings get in the way. Louis is all they really have now. There isn't room for him to make mistakes.

 

It has been just under 48 hours since Wesley, the oldest of the twins, stumbled out of bed and into the living room rubbing his tired eyes. Louis had collapsed into his arm chair soon after the twins were in bed, turning the channel to a rerun of Friends though he knew he would find himself falling asleep before the end of the episode as he did nearly every night. It only took a “Papa I don't--” for Louis to spring into action but it had been too late. A reminder of their dinner was already splattering over his lap, chair and an unlucky portion of the carpet in front of him. Fighting back a gag of his own, he had steeled himself and carried his five year old son to the bathroom to clean up. Having young children made vomit a fairly common occurrence yet he still hadn't grown immune to the reflex from the sight and especially the smell. It was definitely, in his opinion, one of the worst parts of being a parent.

 

After several hours of doctoring his son, he faced a horror that came with raising twins who were nearly inseparable. Elsie appeared from their bedroom looking flushed and sweaty and, like a horrible nightmare of an instant replay, they repeated the scene and then the clean up process he had just finished with child number one.

 

It was after a particularly messy and failed attempt at feeding his children a meal of dry toast that he had given up. Frustrated and exhausted, he was on the phone with his mum in minutes, begging her to come watch the kids just long enough for him to have a proper shower to wash the bodily fluids off his skin and to head down the street for a quiet cup of tea to collect himself. Thankfully she had agreed to tag herself in just to give him a much needed break. He couldn't have been more grateful. His mum loved the twins as she did her own children and always loved an excuse to visit. In sickness or in health. Helpful and supportive, she had been there for him from the moment he brought his twins home. She had raised, was still raising, so many children and though he knew they were in competent hands, it never stopped the guilt that bubbled up and made him feel like he was abandoning them in their time of need.

 

Being a single parent was exhausting. Even with over a year of practice balancing both active young children on his own, he still hit his limit every now and again. Scratch that, it had only been a year since he had moved closer to home but he had been a single parent since shortly after the twins had come home with them three years ago. Louis had always felt strongly about wanting children but it had been Aiden pushing for them to adopt so shortly after they were married. It had been a long and expensive legal process that still gave him headaches even just thinking about it. At the front of the fight, Aiden had willingly written every check and jumped over every hurdle and through every hoop for their twins to come home with them just after their second birthday.

 

It happened so gradually that Louis still felt confused when he looked back on how things had gone wrong. An epiphany was the best way to describe how he woke up one morning to realize he couldn't remember the last time Aiden had been home for bedtime or bothered to wake up for breakfast in the short frame of time they had before they were off to Mommy and Me or whatever activities they had planned for the day. All in one moment he looked back and couldn't remember the last time he had left the house without the toddlers, couldn't remember the last time his husband had been the one to get up in the middle of the night to change soiled bed sheets or sooth a nightmare. He couldn't remember the last time his husband, second father to their children, had stopped to give them even a kiss on the forehead or a loving hug. One of the only differences between then and now it seemed was that he had been forced to start working again, adding another stress to his days.

 

His hair still feels damp beneath his beanie as he walks into the small cafe, repositioning it on his head a little to let some points of his fringe slip out to frame his forehead. He already feels like a bum in his track shorts and muscle tank, adjusting his shirt self consciously as the ding of the cafe door brings the attention to him. Luckily there only appear to be a couple of people scattered individually at the small tables, only the attendant at the counter looking up at his entrance. She smiles at him in welcome as he approaches the counter to place his order.

 

“Just some tea, please,” he orders as politely as he can in his current mood, “And throw in a few of those chocolate chip cookies in there, too.” She nods and turns to make up his beverage, leaving him to stand there awkwardly alone. He's usually not one to feel out of place in public, not until he finds himself in an isolated position. He thrives on human interaction, finds comfort in it, but without anyone, even a stranger to chat with, he feels lost. His eyes glance around the cafe, landing on the scattered patrons in their own little worlds. One older gentleman in the corner has a newspaper spread out in front of him, a look of intense concentration on his face as he absorbs the article he is reading. Another young girl sits with her hands resting around a large mug. Her eyes are closed and her ears covered with large vintage headphones. It is obvious she wouldn't take kindly to Louis if he intruded into her little bubble.

 

But then over by the window he halts his gaze. The sight is a bit breath taking if he had to admit it. In the dimming light of late evening there appeared to be a glowing aura of an angel at a small table across the room. Long chocolate curls rest around the boy's face as he gazes outside, cheek resting on his large hand and shoulders slumping in a look of defeat. If the play of light over his off white and patterned silk shirt and flawless pale skin hadn't drawn his attention, the single red rose laid across the small round table surely would have. It is laying atop what appears to be a thin book with a shiny cover though he is too far away to see the title or the cover clearly.

 

The whole scene resembles a cheesy romantic movie so closely that he has to hold back a snort and a sarcastic chuckle. He pays for his tea and sweets and without giving the price the thought and hesitation he should with his tight budget, he directs his path towards the movie scene curiously.

 

A healthy curiosity, he liked to call it though his mother often disagreed. “Always in everyone's business since you were a toddler!” she often scolded him before offering up stories of a young Louis waving at and greeting strangers, starting conversations and asking tactless questions everywhere they went. He had been learning how the world worked, building his character. That was the excuse he had always told himself, anyways, whenever his curiosity got the best of him.

 

He hates seeing people sad. He always has and cheering this stranger up is how he justifies his actions as his feet carry him closer.

 

“You make a good Meg Ryan,” he says as he sets his cup and saucer down on the table, inviting himself to take a seat across from the young boy in front of him. Wide startled eyes snap towards him while he makes himself comfortable in the worn out cafe chair. He looks up and finds that the stranger is even more breathtaking up close, the crevices and curves of his boyish face aligning into what Louis believes is a beautiful work of art there before him.

 

“You know,” he continues after an awkward moment of silence, “Like You've Got Mail?” He picks up the long stemmed rose, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger to illustrate his point.

 

“Oh, yea, no.... Well I guess so, kind of,” the boy stumbles over his words, obviously started from a space deep inside his own thoughts. Louis smiles at him softly to put him at ease, not wanting to scare him off before he receives the rest of the plot to this real life rom com. He watches as the body across from him visibly deflates, a long sigh leaving his lips.

 

“I guess that's about right. I was supposed to be meeting a blind date here but she's about three hours late,” he says with a small sad laugh, “I guess I was being optimistic sticking around so long.”

 

The melancholy on his face is nearly as heavy as the feminine pronoun that had just slid from his lips. Of course he would be straight. He hadn’t walked into the cafe to pull a beautiful stranger but it was the principle of the matter. All heavenly beautiful boys were either straight or taken. That's just how the inequitable world works. Its for the best, he tries to assure himself. Louis doesn't have time for a relationship anyway. The twins come first and the last thing he would want to do is introduce another father figure that comes with no warranty.

 

“'The Day The Crayons Quit',” Louis reads out, picking up the thin book that had been resting underneath the rose. “Interesting choice for a first date,” he smirks and begins to flip through the book, one that he hasn't encountered yet while reading to his own children. “Should I be expecting the Dateline camera crew to show up?”

 

He makes a show of looking around the cafe for a camera crew lying in wait, pulling a hint of a smile from the stranger over his joke that falls just as fast as it appears.

 

“She has two daughters so I thought I would bring her a copy of one of Emma's favourites... conversation starters and such...” he shrugs a little, looking down at his hands in his lap. He looks small and crumpled in on himself, the last way someone with his beauty should look.

 

“Emma? Is that your sister or something?” he prompts the stranger. After that reaction, he makes it a mission to make the boy smile, determined to cut through the gloomy mask covering his face.

 

“Daughter, actually... She's four and a half. She's in a phase right now where she always wants me to read to her. I really hope its not a passing phase because she's brilliant, already can pick out a few words herself! But she can be really demanding about it some...times...” he seems to catch himself before trailing off. He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair to pull it back from his face. “Sorry. The dad in me sometimes takes off without me holding the reins.”

 

“Don't apologize,” he shuts him down with a small laugh and a wave of his hand, “You only beat me to it. I know how it goes. My friends have a 'No Kids' rule for topics of conversation when we have a lad's night. I have two of my own back home, just turned five a few weeks back. Do you want a cookie?”

 

Pushing the small plate across the table, he smiles warmly at the light starting to creep into his eyes. After the rejection he just came to terms with, the weight of the world seems to have started slipping from his shoulders at least a little.

 

“I'm Louis by the way.”

 

“Harry,” the angel responds, taking Louis' hand to shake as he offers it over the table.

 

“Shared custody I'm guessing?” Louis boldly asks through a mouthful of cookie. In a normal situation he may have scolded himself for lack of manners but he already presumptuously considers the two of them to be friends so why make the effort. Youthful dads out there trying to make it in the world. Its a universal bond, he decides.

 

“No, actually. Emma's all mine. Well, my sister helps out when she can and my mum loves taking her some weekends,” he rambles and Louis already likes him. He may not come across as eloquent but he but he can hear sincerity in every word. Nothing is unlikeable about that. Sincerity seems to be hard to come by these days and he respects the honesty of this stranger who brought a children's book to a blind date. The vulnerability that flashes over his face stops Louis from questioning his situation further, instead opening his own big mouth that never fails to spew words in uncomfortable situations.

 

“Same with me and the twins back home. Husband ran out on me after we adopted them and now its just us against the world. Just us and occasionally my mum who I will owe for the rest of my life not only for birthing my big head but also for temporarily relieving me of my duties when I've spent days covered in puke watching that god damn Frozen dvd so many times that I've already had to replace it on three separate occasions after breaking the discs in moments of Let It Go ice covered snowman insanity....” He looks up and lets out his own sigh through a chuckle with a shake of his head. “See? Now there I go,” he laughs and shoves the rest of his cookie into his mouth without shame.

 

There is an amused glint in Harry's eyes as he meets them, a hint of a grin curling up the corner of his lips.

 

“That's princess abuse,” he says simply, unable to hold back his laugh. It is infectious and before he knows it, Louis’ is just as loud. Their laughter mixes together until tears are streaming down their cheeks. They laugh until everyone in the cafe is staring at them, laugh until they can’t even remember why they are laughing. They laugh because it feels better than crying, laugh because they both need the release, need the escape.

 

“Just us single dads then. Memorizing children's books and breaking DVDs,” Harry gets out as their laughter begins to dim, wiping at the tears hanging on the corners of his eyes with long ring covered fingers. “Rough, innit?” Though it is said in a light hearted tone, Louis can hear the weight of truth behind it. The weight of personal sanity you give up for the sake of your children. He has never felt so understood. Maybe they have only exchanged a brief conversation so far but he already feels a connection between them, even just as single parents.

 

Most of his friends are back in London living out their twenties with their late nights and passing affairs with anonymous bodies. Louis had skipped ahead in the relationship department at a young age and though he had his moments of regret and jealousy towards his untethered peers, he would never choose to give up the twins if given the chance. Sitting here with Harry makes him realize he had never spent time around parents his own age before. Talking with someone who isn't judging him makes it easy for him to joke about things that would otherwise earn him an appalled response from older parents or self appointed experts.

 

“Rough's an understatement,” he says, devouring another cookie from the plate, “Try doubling everything. I feel guilty for being relieved when I finally get them to bed. This scenario isn't what I signed up for when I put my signature on the adoption papers.”

 

He watches Harry's features shift again, the dejection that had been dwelling deep in his eyes bubbling to the surface again. Harry's emotions are palpable. As subtle as the evidence is, it is easy to tell he’s deeply troubled. Extremely easy to tell he probably pushes everything down just to keep up his happy appearance. If anyone can identify with that, its Louis. It had been a long and drawn out divorce and custody battle yet he never lost face around his kids, made it a point not to. He knows how exhausting it can be to keep up appearances when all you want to do was break down and lash out.

 

“Hey,” he says, ducking just a bit to grab contact with his eyes, demanding his full attention, “No one said it was going to be easy but we'll get through it, yeh? No matter how defeated or guilty we feel, as long as we love them and try our best, we'll make it.” He has never been the best at advice or pep talks but that doesn’t stop him from trying. As a child he had found himself on a personal mission to make everyone in the room smile along with him, even if that meant embarrassing himself in the process. He has reigned it in a bit as an adult but his true nature is usually too hard to fight.

 

“You brought a children's book to a blind date. That surely says something about your parenting abilities,” he smirks, flipping through the book yet again.

 

Harry smiles as he looks down at his hands again, his dimples more visible on his cheeks without tears obstructing his vision.

 

“I guess I just had this big fantasy that we would meet and bond over our kids. Then Emma would have some siblings and we would live happily ever after like some type of Brady Bunch,” he shrugs a little, shaking his head with a small laugh at how idealistic his own idea must sound. “Emma was the deal breaker for the last few people I attempted to date. I really thought this time would be different.”

 

“It will happen when its meant to happen,” he spouts the assurance he isn't even able to give himself, reaching across the table for his hand, “And in the mean time, I have two monsters at home who I'm sure would love to be Emma's pseudo siblings.”

 

He offers a warm smile and squeezes his hand, pushing the last cookie across the table to him before withdrawing from the touch. “Eat a cookie and cheer up, buttercup!”

 

 

***

 

“PAPA!! Wesley is pouring the milk by himself!!!!” the loud scream wakes him from a dead sleep, his body jolting with surprise. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut tighter just after he hears the commotion of the milk jug falling to the floor, liquid splashing onto the linoleum audibly and Elsie's high pitched shrieks.

 

“Fuuuuck,” he groans out, rubbing his eyes before dragging himself from the warmth and comfort of his bed. Their apartment is small and the walls thin so it often surprises him that twins can even open their eyes without the sound waking him in the next room but it happens. He makes the short journey to the kitchen, resisting the urge to lash out or cry over the milk that is still spilling out onto the floor.

 

“At least pick it up, Wesley!” he scolds and rushes to right the container. Squatting on the floor near the puddle, the jug feels light in his hand and he squeezes his eyes shut hard against the prickle that threatens tears. He had just been grocery shopping the day before and his food budget is all but exhausted for the month. They are just young kids and aren’t yet plagued with the anxiety and stress of paying the bills. There is no weight attached to why they aren't allowed to pour the milk on their own yet, surely even forgetting about the occurrence moments later.

 

“Wesley, you know you need to ask for help with the milk,” he struggles to keep his voice firm yet without the bite that still threatens to unleash from his anger. “This is what happens. Now go get some towels to help clean this up before you take a 5 minute time out.”

 

He pulls his fingers through his messy bed head and lets out a frustrated breath as soon as his son has scampered out of earshot and into the bathroom for some towels. He had just used the last of this month's child support from Aiden to pay the twin's daycare tuition and his pride is too strong to ask for more. Aiden had already fought the child support claim, attempting to argue that since the children were adopted, there was nothing legal binding him to any financial obligation. Louis had won the case but that didn't mean the money came void of snide remarks and belittling comments at Louis' expense. He knows Aiden would probably lend him the money if he asked but he also knows what comes attached to that debt. He is not that desperate yet.

 

When the flu had hit last week he had been forced to give up several day's of work to stay home with them, the daycare not allowing sick children to come in to avoid an outbreak. While he understands the rules and why they are in place, they don't make his single income life any easier. He has already cut back to meals of cheap pasta for the next week until he can catch up from his days off. Milk is expensive and they run through it faster than water can swirl down the drain. Maybe he should just invest in a cow. Surely that would be more cost effective.

 

Wesley returns with the towels and after a few moments of watching him make the mess even worse, sends him off to time out while he takes care of the spill. There is no way Louis can not believe in karma as he watches his son grow into a good hearted little hellion. There is no question that he, himself, had been a little shit growing up. Stories about his shenanigans still regularly circulate throughout the family. Though now they are accompanied by his mum's laughter as she tells each tale, he knows what a difficult child he had unintentionally been. It is only fitting that he was gifted with some of the same challenges as a parent even when they aren’t even biologically his. Wesley is strong willed and determined and while he has no doubt these qualities will someday take him far in life, in their unrefined juvenile state they often just make Louis' life more difficult.

 

Elsie is the easy one. She is quiet and keeps to herself as long as she knows her brother and papa are close by. Unless she is bickering with or tattling on her twin, she can blend easily into the scenery. Their kitchen and living room are combined into one space and from his spot on the floor, he can see her curled up on the couch contently drawing in a notebook. She has sweet blonde curls that never want to lay right on her head and piercing blue eyes that rival his own. His DNA had not been a part of her creation but he still liked to believe it gave them a connection they wouldn't otherwise possess. Elsie has his looks while Wesley has his personality.

 

Wesley is her opposite in so many ways. Though they share wild curls, his are dark and full bodied, hanging around his face like a mop. His eyes are a warm shade of brown and when he is just waking up they hold hints of gold like his own version of the rising sun. He is a handful but he is Louis' and his love is strong.

 

With the milk mopped up, he sets the soiled towels in the sink to wait until he has the chance to take a trip down the hall to wash them and pours the remaining contents of the jug into Wesley's cereal bowl.

 

“Time out is over, come eat your breakfast,” he calls towards the corner, pulling the box of frozen Eggo's out of the freezer to toast up for Elsie who will begin whining for them shortly. “Breakfast then brush your teeth and get dressed so we can get going,” he says as he fills the kettle with water, setting it on the stove to boil.

 

It has been a week since their cafe encounter but Harry has rarely left his mind. They had parted ways after exchanging numbers and setting up a playdate for the following Saturday which has finally arrived. They have only texted each other once since their chat. Louis isn't sure where they stand as friends and doesn't want to ruin any adult interaction that may come from their friendship by coming on too strong or desperate too soon. The previous evening Harry's name had popped up on his screen and he has to admit that his heart jumped in excitement. The rush had quickly been dashed as soon as he realized he was just texting his home address so they could find his house the next day.

 

He hadn't let it bother him, though. He had just finished giving the twins their baths and tucked them into bed before passing out on top of the sheets himself. Now their playdate is set to start in just several short hours and he feels like a kid on the first day of school full of excitement and nerves. Their first meeting had been pleasant and even fun but spontaneously meeting as strangers is much different than arranging a playdate. It is also the first time he has arranged a playdate with someone who isn't another parent at the daycare. When he had arranged playdates with the kid's mates before it always meant dropping them off for the afternoon while he went home to take a nap or to slip off to indulge in a few cigarettes and a glass of whiskey. This playdate felt like it had been set up to benefit the adults more than the children involved which changes everything. The nerves were building to first date levels though he knew he was being ridiculous. He did have friends even if he didn't see them often, this should be no different.

 

He has been back for a year and apart from his childhood friend and a few people he occasionally talked to at work, he often feels alone. If their children don't get along after today, he is nervous he will lose the opportunity to have a friend that he desperately feels he needs. He needs a friend that won’t mind if they do kid friendly activities or stay in so they won’t miss bedtime. Finding a relationship is something he just doesn’t have the time or motivation for but a good friend that can relate to him sounds even better without the complications that came with a boyfriend when sex and jealousy are involved.

 

Guiding the twins through their morning routine, he loads the dishes into the sink to procrastinate until later and tries not to think about how the day will go. He sets up the twins on his bed with a DVD of Madeline so he knows they are close as he rushes through a shower, not bothering to shave. With years of practice speeding up his routine, he is dressed in no time and helping the twins tie their trainers, ushering them out the door.

 

 

***

 

It doesn’t take long for them to walk to the address Harry had texted him the night before but when they arrive, he finds them not in front of a house but in front of a bakery instead. The numbers painted artistically on the glass of the door claim to be the right house number but unless Harry is secretly a gingerbread man, he can’t live here.

 

With a restless child on each hand, he begins to grow irritated at being set up until the sound of voices catches his attention. He timidly walks around the corner of the shop, following the sound to find a large yard with a swing set bordered with a waist high brown fence.

 

“Good! You made it!” Harry exclaims as if he may have had doubts. He rushes to open the gate for them leaving a small girl swaying on a swing in a big fluffy pink sequined tutu. Both his children are through the gate and off towards the slide before he notices that Harry also has a fluffy pink tutu on over his jeans. It sticks out around his slender waist and somehow fit his body perfectly.

 

“I didn't realize this was a formal affair or I would have dressed up,” Louis cracks as his eyes wander up to find gaudy pink blush on his cheeks and a tiara perched on top of his curls.

 

“I would make you go home and change but seeing as you're new here...” Harry grins with his dimples on display, Louis effectively swooning. “I guess we can let it go this time. But don't expect the same the next time you show your face without your pixie princess clothes on.” He latches the gate behind them and turns towards the swings. “So this is Emma,” he gestures to the small girl who has wiggled down from her swing to run after the new kids on her turf, “She's four and a half and looks exactly like her mother.”

 

“Elsie is the blonde and the rascal about rip out your flowers is Wesley,” he tells him before raising his voice, “Wesley! Do not touch the flowers! Looking only!”

 

“Its okay, he can pick them,” Harry shrugs.

 

“Just trust me. I'm sure you would want at least a few left in your yard. You give him the go ahead and he’ll rip them all out by the roots. I’m sure of it. He's turning out too much like me. He's a bit too wild,” he says fondly, watching to make sure the flowers have been abandoned. “I can cage him if you need me too,” he jokes and lets a smile grace his face as he watches Harry grin.

 

It has been a long time since he has felt he can be himself and in this space he feels like he could be. He may be standing next to a grown boy dressed as a princess but in a strange way everything just fits.

 

***

 

“So you live in a bakery,” he states more than questions after several hours of watching their children run around with more energy than he could ever muster.

 

“Behind it actually,” Harry nods his head towards the cottage style house behind them. Looking towards the house it is now easy to see that there is a path that leads to the front door of the house, the back door of the bakery and to the fence where he had entered the yard. It is a quaint little space but it feels nice and homey, used and lived in. “I own the bakery and the house came with it.”

 

“You own a bakery??” he asks incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes and slacked jaw, “But you're a baby. You can’t be much past 20.”

 

Harry chuckles before taking a sip of his sun tea.

 

“I'm 21 thank you very much. But the bakery, it was left to me. The house, too. Started working a day a week when I was 14 and moved up to weekends when I turned 16. Barbara, rest her soul, was like a grandmum to me,” his voice fond as he speaks, “Been running the place for a several years now since she fell ill... said none of her children had any interest coming back here to take over. They're all over the world with their own families. Said she wanted Emma to have a proper house and a yard and I had no business wasting my money on rent when I was already in charge. We moved in about a year ago. Really cut down my commute.”

 

Discovering Harry was not only younger than him but by four whole years and successfully, he could only assume, running a business made him feel a bit inadequate when he looked at his own accomplishments. His part time art teaching gig through the school year and coaching youth soccer during the summers barely got him by even with the child support that came in each month. Finances had been the main reason he had been forced to move closer to home from London. His salaries now wouldn’t even cover the parking at the posh flat he used to share with Aiden and finding a teaching job flexible enough for him to take care of the kids had been nearly impossible.

 

“Do you bake, then?” he asks, squinting against the summer sun as he looks over. He curses his memory for forgetting to snag his sunglasses on the way out the door. Keeping the kids together often left him neglecting himself, three people too many to mind all at once. “Wait, is this the place with those tarts my mum is always bribing the twins with?”

 

“We're the only bakery in this area so its possible?” Harry lights up at the possible complement looking like a puppy eager for the attention. Louis nearly glances behind him to make sure he doesn’t have a wagging tail. “Tell your mum to ask for me. I'll give her a box on the house.”

 

“Don't offer just to be nice because us Tomlinson's wont hesitate when free food is involved,” he smirks and the dimpled smile that takes over Harry's face warms his heart.

 

“I would never taunt anyone with free pastries,” he says in mock seriousness from behind his glass before taking another sip.

 

The banter came easy and naturally between them. His chest felt lighter as the pent up stress lifted from him and dissipated through his laughter. It had been a long while since he had met a new mate and knowing Harry was straight cut that tension from their friendship, or at least he hoped. He could feel it from Harry, too. They had yet to get into the specifics of their single parent statuses but it was easy to tell the it was the same weight that caused Harry's shoulder to curl in on himself, the one Louis carried in his chest. Behind the deceiving dimples, his smiles never quite reached his eyes and it was a feeling Louis knew all too well. He could only imagine how radiant that smile would be if fully unleashed.

 

It was part of the role they played, though. When someone asked about the kids, the scripted answer always rolled off the tongue no matter what situation he actually found himself in. It was never socially acceptable to answer that he felt like he was drowning sometimes, that he felt he wasn't adequate or capable of raising two small sized humans. It wasn't acceptable to blurt out that it had been weeks since he had the privacy or energy to have a wank, yearning for just that small bit of relief but rarely able to achieve it. He would probably have child protective services knocking at his door if he admitted that sometimes on his most difficult nights he wished slipping Benedryl into their sippy cups was a viable option.

 

Being around Harry, he found, eased his guilt. He could recognize those feelings reflected back at him without them vocalizing their frustrations. It was a happy reprieve to know he wasn’t alone, to feel that he was normal.

 

The end of their playdate came abruptly as an accident caused Wesley to fling sand into Elsie's hair. Usually a quiet and composed creature, without a nap the girl was inconsolable. Her tantrum became so loud that carting her home seemed to be the only option. They departed with his daughter on his hip though she really was a bit too big to still be carried. She didn't weigh much more than a few feathers and the walk home was a short one. He didn’t mind indulging her once in a while.

 

The threesome made it home without further incidences, setting the twins up with a movie on the couch to rest before letting himself reflect on his afternoon. Dishes were usually one of his least favourite chores but as he thought of Harry while wrist deep in dish water, a smile crept onto his face.

 

 

***

 

“You're late,” he hears on the following Sunday as they wind up the shaded path towards the park they had agreed to meet at.

 

“We had a milk incident,” Louis explains, sending the twins off to the equipment with Emma. It had been the third milk spill this week and was one of the last straws for Louis. “Do they sell locks for refrigerators?” he asks, not even bothering to hide the irritation in his voice with the kids out of earshot.

 

“I know what you mean. Emma had Lily's lipstick all over her face the other morning when I woke up... It was her favourite one. I never thought I'd have the urge to slap a child but for a brief moment, I did,” Harry admits, pulling at his lip nervously as he must realize what had slipped from his mouth.

 

Louis plops down on the bench next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in a show of support.

 

“We're all human. Makes you a good person and parent that you didn't, though. You didn't, right?” he asks with a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood just a bit. Harry shakes his head with a small sigh, dropping his hands to his lap.

 

“Is Lily your girlfriend, then?” he asks after a moment. He had met Harry on a failed date but it has been several weeks now. It is entirely possible he had already found himself a new relationship or even rescheduled with the no show from the cafe.

 

“No, my wife. Ex-wife... well not really my ex-wife... former wife I guess,” he stumbles around his words as his fingers on his right hand turn the rings circling the ones on his left. “She died,” he finally gets out bluntly as if it was the only way he could say it without crying.

 

There is a moment of silence that stretches between them, Louis not sure what to say after that. Soon the unspoken words became too heavy in the air for him.

 

“She's Emma's mum then?” he asks hesitantly, testing the waters on the subject. Harry nods after a moment, eyes darting up to his daughter.

 

“Yeah. Proper high school sweethearts and all I guess. She was my first, got her pregnant when I was 17. Got married when I was 18 and then she was diagnosed with leukemia just after I turned 19. I barely knew anything about kids, really. I was the youngest but she had younger siblings and cousins around while she was growing up. It always felt like she knew what she was doing. She was so confident when Emma was born, so sure of herself. I just fumbled along and made sure I was taking care of them, I guess. When she got sick, I had to take over and I could tell she thought I was doing everything wrong. She was so weak at the end, so out of it yet she still made sure to point out everything she could have done better. Just the two of us now and I don't think Emma even remembers her. Part of me even hopes she doesn’t. I cant tell if I'm doing any of this right and I think it would be harder if she remembered Lily as a comparison to me.”

 

He looks up as Harry swipes at the corner of his eye, sniffing in an endearing way that scrunches up his entire face, moving his nose like a rabbit. Small and lost were the only ways Louis could describe him in this moment and without a second thought he leans over to wrap him in a tight embrace. Harry hiccups out a small sob but doesn't pull away, leaning his cheek against Louis' shoulder.

 

“I'm sorry, that's not what you asked,” he mumbles softly before pulling back to wipe at his eyes again, “Just gets overwhelming I guess, thinking about it.”

 

“There's nothing to be sorry about,” he assures him gently, “You got a beautiful daughter out of it and from what I can see, you're doing a great job. There aren't many dads who purchase adult sized tutus and wear make up on their own free will or make dating selections based on her best interests.”

 

Harry offers a small smile at that with red rimmed eyes and Louis mirrors one back.

 

“I just don't think I can handle it sometimes,” his voice small and vulnerable, gazing out towards the kids.

 

“I think every parent feels that from time to time. Sometimes I have to pawn them off on my mom just to feel like I can breathe. I thought I would be such a good house husband. I figured what I didn’t know I would have all the time in the world to learn from google and parenting blogs. I don’t even have the internet at the house now let alone time to google parenting tips so there went my plan,” he lets out a small laugh at how much had changed since the days he was decorating their bedrooms with gender neutral colours and finally retiring from his position at Aiden’s law firm.

 

“It is what it is, yeh? We raise these little minions the best we can so they can grow up and raise even more minions, hopefully learning from our mistakes. That’s all we can really hope for. And if you ever need some time to yourself, I wouldn’t mind having Emma over to ours. Even for a sleepover.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind watching yours either. But I will warn you, we have very early mornings around our house, Emma usually wakes up at the crack of dawn. Sure you’re up for that?” he asks with a bit of a grin.

 

“If she can keep herself occupied until I wake up, sure!” he jokes back, knocking their shoulders together.

 

They sit in companionable silence in the warm sunlight, their children delighted to play together along with the other children at the park until Harry finally glances over at him.

 

“You poke fun at my age but you’re a bit young to have 5 year olds, too,” he looks back out across the grass, “How did you end up here?”

 

He pauses for a moment as he thinks about his response. Where did his story start exactly? Most of the people he knew either had no interest in his personal life or had been there from the beginning. His story had never been asked for, not his personal one anyway.

 

“I met Aiden when I was still in uni. He’s a big time lawyer in London and I started as a summer intern in his office. A couple weeks in I didn’t really give it much thought when he bought me expensive tea and chocolates and then fucked me over his desk. I was a horny college kid and unattached at the time and for being 15 years older than me, he was pretty fit. After a couple months of that he offered me a paid receptionist position that I took and by the end of the year I had practically moved into his place. I was so offended when everyone said he was my sugar daddy but looking back, he really was. He took me on exotic vacations and bought me expensive things.

 

“He had been married before, to a woman, and had a couple kids he didn’t have visitation rights to. He always told me it was because his ex-wife wanted more money from him, excuses like that, but I’m starting to believe he just did the same thing to them that he did to me,” he sighs and leans back on the bench, picking at the edge of his jeans after crossing his legs. Harry was still beside him, still looking across the park as if trying to suck the words in by osmosis instead of eye contact. Louis didn’t mind, it made it easier to relive the pain.

 

“So we got married and I thought I had it made. I was happy. I had graduated and we worked together and it was calm. Then he started pushing for kids and before I was even on board he was already knee deep in adoption agencies and paper work. I had always wanted kids, not so young I guess, but he said he was getting older and if we waited longer he wouldn’t see them grow up. I could see where he was coming from and he told me I wouldn’t have to work anymore and I guess I just saw us all being the perfect little family. The twins were two when we brought them home and I was so happy. I really felt like I was meant to be their dad and they were so affectionate.

 

“Aiden started to have more and more excuses about working late or being too busy and eventually he just stopped giving me excuses. He wasn’t around much and the twins even started treating him like a stranger when he would come home, hiding behind me and crying... He had become so angry at us. I eventually said I couldn’t take care of them alone and that he needed to get his act together or leave. He told me he had been sleeping with the new receptionist. It didn’t really feel like cheating since, you know, we hadn’t really done anything for a long time and it didn’t feel like a relationship anymore. He told me he wanted a divorce and that’s that. Still doesn’t want a thing to do with the twins and HE was the one who went through all the work for us to get them. I’ll never understand it. But here we are, moved back home to be closer to family about a year ago.”

 

It felt strange to have it out in the open. As the words tumble from his mouth he imagines them flying up into the sky, finally released from the trap he where he had held them deep within his chest. It became easy to let out a long breath now, lungs not as restricted as they had been. He looks over to find Harry looking at him again, chin rested on his hand as his elbow rests on his thigh, back curved in his usual slouch.

 

They stare at each other with glossy eyes for several long seconds before Harry starts moving closer. His long arms wrap around Louis, his warm body enveloping him in a comfort he had been craving. They hug like old friends, holding each other tightly. It feels natural to tuck his face against Harry’s neck, his scent nothing extraordinary but it is real, grounding. He closes his eyes and falls into the embrace.

 

Clinging together, they stay in that position on the bench until Harry sniffs loudly against his ear. Louis pulls back just enough to see the tears staining his cheeks and the water pooling in his eyes.

 

Harry pulls away and wipes at his face, wiping a finger beneath his nose.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbles with another swipe below his eyes, “No one should ever have to go through that.”

 

Louis diverts his eyes, looking anywhere but his face lest he starts crying himself. His situation isn’t ideal but the heartache and pain he feels doesn’t seem as ingrained as it appears to be in Harry. He has moved on with his life, every day will slowly get better until Aiden becomes just a ghost from a different time.

 

Where Louis felt like an inadequate father, Harry had actually been told he was. The echoing words repeated by his deceased wife had been carved deep, it was apparent on his face and written all over his soul, visible through the void in his eyes. Louis wanted nothing more than to delete those insecurities letter by letter until he was able to break through the chains holding him to those thoughts.

 

“I wish you hadn’t gone through that either,” he answers softly, resting a hand near his knee to grab his attention. They meet each other’s eyes, Harry’s still glassy and red. “No one should ever tell you that you’re a bad father. I mean, look at Emma,” he gestures to their children who were now engaged in a game of tag, laughing and shrieking at each other with bright smiles.

 

“She’s happy and healthy. You have kept her that way. Everything else is extra but I think you’re doing a wonderful job from what I can see. The twins haven’t stopped talking about her. Whatever reasons your wife had for telling you that are unfounded and you need to look at what you have NOW.”

 

Harry shrugs a bit as he looks out at his daughter, leaning back against the bench as he chews on his bottom lip. He settles with the idea that Harry is at least considering his words but that is all he can hope for. He isn’t a therapist and he definitely is in no position to offer in depth motivational speeches when he often feels the same way.

 

The emotions were exhausting, working mental muscles he hadn’t touched in ages. The same seemed true for his bench companion so he let the silence wash over them, the breeze soothing the reopened wounds.

 

They stayed at the park until the kids were worn out and cranky, bickering with each other until the dads had to intervene, physically putting space between the youngsters.

 

Harry effortlessly hoists Emma onto his hip, popping out naturally to hold her weight. The way she wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head down is further proof that all those accusations aren’t true. There is so much love between them and it warms his heart.

 

They part ways with waves and promises to meet up again, the small thankful smile on Harry’s lips enough to spring one to his own face. He had hoped their friendship would be a positive addition to his life and with that small acknowledgement, he knows it is turning out to be just that.

 

 

***

 

 

Louis doesn’t remember signing up to relive teenage experiences yet that’s how he finds himself sitting on the edge of his kitchen chair, leg bouncing nervously and his heart racing. His phone is clutched firmly in the grip of both his hands on the table in front of him, teeth baring down on his already swollen lip.

 

“Just do it already,” he mumbles to himself, thumb hovering over the call icon in Harry’s contact information. If he were to close his eyes, he would surely see a younger version of himself, crush’s number scrawled on a piece of tattered notebook paper grasped in one nervous shaking hand and a cordless phone in the other. In many ways it feels just like that. Harry is one of the cool kids and Louis feels like this one phone call could make or break his future with the “in crowd”.

 

He doesn’t feel this is entirely his fault, though. Spending a majority of his days with Harry’s new fan club is undeniably the reason he has built him up in his head and feels so far below him. He knows that children’s attention often hyper focuses on new things and people but that doesn’t stop the twinge of inadequacy that pinches him each time the twins bring up their new friends with nothing but golden praise.

 

“Emma says you’re supposed to open your bananas from the bottom, Papa,” he hears at breakfast one morning complete with the explanation passed on from Harry. These types of comments slowly fill more of his time with each play date they have together and only add to his infatuation.

 

Louis should be growing more comfortable with their interactions but instead it keeps turning out to be quite the opposite. When he is finally alone at the end of the night in the fuzzy space between sleep and consciousness, he tells himself all the reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to Harry, the reasons why pining over a straight boy is unhealthy. He wakes each morning with a new outlook on the situation only to have the I heart Harry squad take him back to square one in a matter of minutes.

 

Realistically he knows there is no reason to work himself up. At the end of the day, Harry is just a playful kitten in a very, very fit body. They have seen each other break down and have put each other back together on more than one occasion. Logically their interactions should be transitioning into a casual plane but Louis still can’t even make a phone call without psyching himself out.

 

Dimples and the elegant arch of eyebrows are features that taunt him but that is only the surface of his physical attributes. Harry is more than just a hot body though his defined muscles and lengthy legs certainly help. Its more than that to Louis. He has never been into spiritual things, always a very practical person. With Harry it felt like his entire aura was pulling him in, leaving him with an insatiable craving to be closer. If anything could sway him into researching and believing in chakras and souls, it would be Harry. There is just something about him.

 

“Fuck it, he’s just your friend,” he growls at himself, pushing the call icon with conviction.

 

 

***

 

 

The summer months passed by them quickly, days slipping through the cracks like hours until September was knocking on the door. The twins were starting school for the first time which had Louis scrambling to pay for their uniforms while stressing about whether they had the proper school supplies and books needed for the year.

 

They had been in day care since he moved away from London but he always had the option to keep them home on his free days which he usually took advantage of. Coming to terms with the fact that they would now be in their classroom Monday through Friday without him was more difficult than he had anticipated.

 

He had received his own teaching schedule for his art classes and was delighted to see that the class times were mostly spread through the middle of the day. Still only a part time teacher, he had two classes that met three times a week and one class that met twice. His latest class of the day ended at 1:30 which would give him plenty of time to fetch the twins from school himself. The confirmation that he would not have to pay for after school care was a huge relief.

 

Harry had rejoiced with him, throwing him into a big hug and whispered “That’s so great, Lou!” against his ear in a low voice that made all of the little hairs on his neck stand on end.

 

After their afternoon in the park their meetings had become regular. They came up with various activities for the kids through the warm months, rarely going more than a few days without seeing each other. Bakery trips had become embarrassing regular for him and the twins and the few pounds he had packed on from the free treats were the visible evidence.

 

The three children had, in fact, become pseudo siblings to each other as he had promised on their first meeting. It warmed his heart to see the three of them interacting together and that alone was enough for him. From the worry lines that were slowly leaving Harry’s face, he knew that he felt the same. Every day his eyes seemed brighter when he saw that it was Louis and the twins walking in with the sharp ding of the bakery door bell. They claimed one of the small tables near the counter as theirs which had Harry joking about installing a permanent reserved sign for their visits. Louis was not against the idea.

 

Along with all the positives that came from their friendship, one huge red flag had popped up between them, one that Louis had actively been trying to avoid.

 

After a particularly vivid dream that brought him into consciousness hot and bothered, he had finally been forced to admit to himself that his feelings for Harry weren’t quite just platonic as he had been trying so hard to keep them. Since the first time he had seen him alone in the cafe, Louis had acknowledged the beauty that Harry possessed. His cherubic dimpled face and long lean body was sculpted in a perfect imperfection that no one would be able to deny.

 

Though his looks had been the catalyst of his raunchy dream and to his admission, the root of his infatuation came from everything else that made up the young baker. It was the way he sang softly as he bandaged up one of the kid’s booboos, the way he flirted with the grandmas that came into his shop, the way he insisted that morning was the best part of the day. He had watched Harry blossom into a beautiful creature over the past several months and hoping he had been a part of that made his ties even stronger. Harry wasn’t just someone Louis wanted to make smile anymore. He instead felt an ownership to parts of his personality and that feeling was addicting.

 

A sure way into Louis’ heart was through his kids and Harry had knocked those walls down with the force of a tsunami. He treated Wesley and Elsie as his own children, the love oozing from him every time they were together. The love the twins had to offer him back was fierce, heart eyes visible as he hugged them and kissed their noses or got down right on the floor to play with them like he was a 5 year old himself.

 

Loving the unattainable became a deep yearning he was unfamiliar with. Jumping into his relationship with Aiden so young, it was the only real relationship on his books. The casual one night stands or week long trysts he had through his university years were never so altering. Since the divorce there had been no one which became a fact he clung to when thinking about Harry. He convinced himself that his infatuation was only so intense because it had been so long since his last romantic interaction. It became a denial he forced upon himself every time the life altering smile spread over Harry’s angelic face that made Louis want to slam his head into a brick wall.

 

 

***

 

It is a Friday afternoon several weeks since school had started back up when Louis returns home to find his mum waiting outside the apartment building.

 

“What are you doing here?” he questions as he herds the twins towards the entrance, poking in the lock code to get inside.

 

“I’m here to pick the twins up for the weekend!” she replies letting out a small laugh as if he should know this.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters as his memory comes back to him. He had been distracted when she called to ask if she could take the twins for the weekend, some church carnival she thought they would enjoy.

 

“Louis! Language!” she scolds and shakes her head, helping the kids with their backpacks as they chatter to her about their classroom.

 

“We even have a RAT!” Wesley gushes in excitement as they ride the lift up to his flat.

 

“You’ll have to give me a minute to pack up a bag for them, completely spaced it mum, sorry.”

 

It doesn’t take him long to throw some clean outfits and toothbrushes into an overnight bag, ushering them all out the door and on their way with kisses and promises to have them back at a decent time on Sunday.

 

He has just settled into the couch with the remote and an ice cold beer when his phone vibrates against his leg.

 

“Oh fuck me,” he groans as he sees the calendar notification on his screen. Harry and Emma had made plans to come over for supper tonight, another plan he had completely forgotten. He pulls up his contacts to phone Harry, raising it to his ear.

 

“Lou! I was just about to call you!” Harry answers on the third ring, the now familiar chime of the bakery’s industrial oven sounding in the background over the line.

 

“Hey, sorry about the short notice but I completely forgot that my mum was stealing the twins away from me this weekend,” he feels a bit disappointed as he relays the news, heart dipping at having to cancel his time with Harry. He definitely is a sucker for punishment. “I mean you and Emma are still welcome to come over. The poorly cooked food and my coveted company is still here whether the kids are or not.”

 

“That’s why I was going to call you! My sister showed up about an hour ago to steal Emma. She said they were going to have a girls night and go to some new movie that just came out. Emma looked so excited I couldn’t really say no! Look at us, letting people just steal our kids away,” his laugh seems light and makes Louis smile.

 

“We’re freeeee!” he chuckles before taking a sip of his beer. “Well hey, if you want to still come over and watch some bad tv I can promise wine and maaaaaybe, if you’re nice, I’ll splurge on take out and not subject you to my horrible cooking.”

 

So far in their friendship they had never been together without the kids as a buffer between them, it had never been brought up. For a brief moment he thinks he may have overstepped some unspoken boundaries, that he had been mistaken and their friendship really didn’t extend past their children, until he hears a laugh.

 

“I sent Beckie home early so I’m stuck here until 6 but that actually sounds really great. See you around 7 then?”

 

A ball of excited nerves bursts in his chest as he confirms, hanging up and looking around his flat. If it were just going to be the two of them, he really needs to clean up the place. With beer in hand, he heads to the kitchen to throw all the dirty dishes into the sink, wiping the counters for any crumbs that had been collecting. He flits around the flat, folding clothes, hiding toys and even vacuuming until he decides everything looks livable.

 

A knock sounds at the door promptly at seven, a flurry of excitement filling him as he jumps up to greet his guest. He takes a moment before opening the door, reminding himself that this isn’t even a date. Its just two lads doing laddy things while hanging out as lads, that’s it. The door swings open and he catches his jaw before it drops at the sight before him. Harry’s jeans are skin tight against his hips all the way down to his ankles, his sheer shirt only buttoned twice towards the bottom. Just like the rest of him, his chest and abs are sculpted with the same hint of youth as his baby face, his smooth bare skin making it hard not to stare. He curses himself for not changing out of his Adidas sweats and band tshirt but then again reminds himself that the goal here is not seduction.

 

“Hey! Pulled some fresh bread out of the oven right before I came over so I brought sandwiches, hope that’s okay,” he smiles as he holds up a paper bag from the bakery.

 

“Yeah yeah, that’s great actually. I’d never say no to fresh bread,” he smiles and moves aside for him to enter, closing the door behind him. Harry makes himself at home in the kitchen, pulling out the already made sandwiches that look store bought though he knows Harry is just like that.

 

“You can pick out a bottle of wine if you like,” he says while pulling down two plates for their food, “I don’t know much, well, anything really, about wine but supposedly they’re all good. Aiden was always into big price tags but I don’t think he really knew much about wine either. He just liked to show off his collection to all the big wigs. I filled a whole suitcase from his stash when I left. Saw it as a going away present, I guess. Top two shelves of that cabinet.”

 

He points up to the cupboard that holds the wine out of the twin’s reach, each shelf threatening to collapse with the weight.

 

“These are really expensive, Lou, are you sure?” Harry asks with the cupboard open.

 

“Yeah grab whatever you want. I haven’t even opened one since I moved here. Doesn’t mean much to me other than the alcohol content.”

 

Louis digs around for a cork screw while Harry looks over the labels, finally pulling down a bottle of some type of red with fancy gold lettering across the label. It really is all the same to him. Though Aiden had dragged him to galas and posh parties and fancy dinner engagements, he wasn’t above admitting that wine pretty much tasted all the same to him. It could be a cheap box wine classed up in a fancy glass and he still would never be able to tell the difference.

 

“I don’t have any wine glasses, though. Would you like your expensive wine in a plastic cup from The Lego Movie or this beer glass I stole from a pub in New York?” he smirks as he holds up the two options. He had gone straight from college student to living in a house that was already set up, never needing to acquire any wine glasses for himself. He would, eventually. Maybe when he could find a full time teaching gig and could move to a place big enough for the twins to each have their own room. Then maybe he could invest in some dining sets that actually matched. Until then, this would have to do.

 

Harry lets out a loud laugh before snatching the plastic tumbler from his hands, declaring it his for the night.

 

“Of course you’d pick Unikitty,” he shakes his head as he carries their dinner across the room to the couch, setting them down on the second hand coffee table as Harry pours their wine.

 

“I brought you a sippy cup so you don’t spill,” Harry bats his eyes at him and sets down the bright purple sippy cup in front of him, complete with lid.

 

“You can’t be serious...” he looks between the cup and Harry several times before just shrugging his shoulders. He picks up the cup and tries to take a long swig, instead having to nearly suck the liquid through the holes. “They really aren’t playing around when they say no spills. I can barely get it to spill into my mouth!”

 

Harry erupts into giggles as he falls down onto the couch next to him, his own face quickly colouring red.

 

“I knew that innocence was only an act,” Louis wags a finger at him with a smirk, attempting the sippy cup once again.

 

“I don’t know why you’re finding it so difficult. I doubt you have any problems getting things to spill into your mouth.”

 

The only evidence of Harry’s coy smirk sticks in the sparkle of his eye as he shoves the sandwich into his mouth, taking a big bite. Louis stares at him for a beat before hiding his deepening blush behind his own sandwich. This was not okay. Harry wasn’t allowed to tease him. It just wasn’t fair when he was completely oblivious to the heat that swelled throughout his body at the words. The whole world was against him.

 

 

 

Two sandwiches and three bottles of wine later found the pair delightfully tipsy, draped over each other on the small couch in unstoppable laughter. The abandoned lid of the sippy cup sat dripping onto the beat up coffee table in front of them, the intensity of the stain marking the passage of time since it had been placed.

 

“But there I was trapped under his desk, starkers with my clothes on the other side of the room!!” he laughs out, both of them in hysterics over the embarrassing story of the time he got caught blowing his boss in the middle of the day, “And had to sit there for an entire hour while he met with a client!!”

 

Harry is wiping the tears from his cheeks as Louis finishes his story, shaking his head at how wild he had been in his not so distant youth.

 

“I always wondered what they thought of the clothing trail leading from the door,” he laughs, wiping at his own eyes before collapsing back onto Harry. Midway through their second bottle, he had complained of his back aching, Louis immediately offering space for him to lay down. Half a bottle later Louis had made himself comfortable right on top of him claiming that he couldn’t see the tv from the floor. It had been a weak excuse but one that Harry hadn’t argued.

 

“Good thing you weren’t caught with your pants down... literally,” Harry breaks into another fit of laughter which sets Louis off again.

 

“Oh believe me, there were plenty of times that happened. There was this one time in the back of the limo on the way to this charity event when they opened the door to find me fully mounted and I mean mid-bounce,” another burst of laughter forces itself out of Harry, his hand flying to his mouth as if he wasn’t aware he could make that noise.

 

“You seem like quite the exhibitionist,” Harry slurs with glossy eyes, face splotchy with pink.

 

“I wouldn’t say that,” he chuckles, “You just do a lot of crazy things when you first start a relationship, when you’re young. I’m sure you have a fair amount of sexual experiences from your younger years, yeah?”

 

“Not really, no,” he replies after a moment, “Lily was my first and we only had sex a handful of times before she got pregnant. It wasn’t very interesting after that.”

 

His voice became soft, chewing at his bottom lip as the mood around them suddenly grows serious.

 

“Poor poor Harold,” Louis coos, reaching up to stroke his cheek before any sober part of him could tell him not too. To his surprise, Harry just leans into his touch much like a cat, eyes falling shut with the motion.

 

“Everyone deserves some wild sexual experiences when they’re young,” his voice had dropped in volume, gentle and a tad bit seductive.

 

He stretches his thumb away from his palm, delicately stroking his cheek, allowing himself to stare unabashed. There should be no surprise that Harry’s eyelashes are long and dark, an elegant curve resting against his smooth skin fluttering softly like a feather. His eyebrows form a graceful arc with his bone structure making his eyes seem more wide and innocent than they already are while his wide forehead and sharp jawline give the illusion of the man he really is past the baby face. The bow of his lips is intriguing, upper giving hinting at the shape of a heart while the soft and plushy bottom with its moist red colour is straight up pornographic. God was cruel in giving such a perfect set of blow job lips to an unfortunately straight boy.

 

This beautiful creation in front of him is a masterpiece. He is a real life Disney prince, princess even depending on which way you admire his face. A bit of mascara, eyeliner or blush is all he would need to emphasis his feminine features, a tiara perched upon his curls to make it official. There would be a line of princes and frogs lined up for miles hoping to win the destiny lottery for him. Louis hopes he already has.

 

He doesn’t realize how closely he has leaned in until a small whimper hits his ears. Their lips are just centimeters apart now, their warm breath meeting in a humid mixture. Quick to murder the angel screaming no on his shoulder, he leans in. He only touches their lips together at first, giving Harry the opportunity to either pull away or participate, his buzzing body as he hopes for the latter.

 

Its timid at first, a small movement that he takes as confirmation. The pace is slow, lips feeling even better against his than they look. The whimper Harry lets out goes straight to his dick, unintentionally rocking forward against Harry’s tightly concealed thigh. His sweatpants do little to hide the semi he is now sporting, his altered state blissfully keeping him from caring.

 

They each become more bold until they are wrapped up in a heated kiss fueled with an underlying intensity that he thought was only coming from him until Harry’s hips cant forward against him. He is not sure how there is even room in those jeans for his dick to fit in them in the first place let alone the stiff line he can now feel against his hip. A moan rips from his throat, his own erection now in full form under soft fabric.

 

“Lou...” Harry whimpers against his lips, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a beauty one syllable shouldn’t be capable of. It stokes his fire, lips kissing and sucking along his jaw and then attaching to his neck like a starving vampire, eager to eat him up.

 

Harry’s skin is sweet and salty under his tongue, his nose filled with the fruity scent of his shampoo with just a hint of coconut. Attaching his lips to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, he draws out the most beautiful moans, fully satisfied to hear nothing else for the rest of his life.

 

His lips travel further down his chest, his journey made easy by Harry’s apparent phobia of buttons, smooth skin and puffy nipples already exposed for him.

 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, chancing a glance up to his face. Harry’s eyes are still tightly sealed, brows creased together and exquisite lips parted. The image before him far exceeds what his brain has conjured up in his now frequent dreams.

 

His fingers easily free the remaining two buttons, pushing the fabric away from his torso, mouth watering as he exposes even more flesh, eyes lingering on the perfect trail of light hair leading down from his navel.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he attaches his mouth to the new skin, sucking a bruise on his hip just above the line of his jeans where Harry seems to have the loudest reaction.

 

The thick line of his dick is now so near his face its unavoidable, leaning to mouth along his length through his jeans. Fingers slide into his hair, gripping perfectly and its the only encouragement he needs to unfasten the button and pull down the short zipper.

 

He leaves enough time for Harry to protest before his hand dives under his boxers, pulling him out into the air. It had been easy to deduct that he was big through his jeans but now that it is staring him in the face it seems massive. His girth feels heavy in his hand and the first few light strokes of his shaft confirm that he is longer than Louis as well. He gives the head a few tentative licks, his own dick jumping at the bubble of precum that oozes from his slit in reaction.

 

It tastes just as good as the rest of him he finds as he relaxes his jaw and fits his lips around his head, sucking gently. Harry tugs at his hair which pulls a moan from Louis, body almost wiggling beneath him in anticipation. It takes concentration to adjust to his size, much wider than anyone he had been with in the past. He welcomes the ache as he slides his mouth down further, hand fisting around the base where his mouth wont quite reach. That would be a challenge for another time, though. Now is not the time to practice his rusty deep throating techniques that would surely end in embarrassment.

 

He hollows his cheeks and flattens his tongue against the prominent vein running on the underside of his dick, pumping a slow rhythm at the same time.

 

“Fuck Lou... Lou!” his deep voice moans out as his whole body tenses, dick pulsing in his mouth as he gets a mouthful of cum. He swallows down every drop, milking him through his orgasm with waves of his tongue until the fingers in his hair pull him away.

 

It only takes several pumps of his own hand shoved down his loose pants for him to come as well, crying out with the intensity of his orgasm brought on by his fantasy brought to life beneath him.

 

The whole exchange had been short but he didn’t mind. From what he had learned about Harry, he was just as sex deprived as Louis was himself so it wasn’t a surprise.

 

Harry’s chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, arm thrown over his face, effectively shielding his eyes. Louis gently tucks him back into his jeans, zipping them up before crawling up to cuddle with their bodies pressed together shoulders to toes. There is an uncomfortable wet spot in his pants but he can’t bring himself to care, unwilling to extract himself from Harry’s warm body so soon.

 

Their bodies are pressed so closed together that it is easy to detect when Harry falls asleep, breathing evening out and body slack. His orgasm had sobered Louis up quite a bit but the lasting effects of so much wine were making his eyes droop. He falls asleep with his head tucked against the warmth of Harry’s neck, coconut scent in his nose and a smile on his face.

 

 

***

 

Louis wakes up with a strip of bright sunlight over his face and a sandpaper mouth, groaning as he shields his face with his arm. His joints ache and his body feels like he has just returned from being stranded in the desert. He knows he is not in his bed and is disoriented until the crick in his neck reminds him that he spent the night on the couch. A wonderful night cozied up to a beautiful wonderful boy who had been nearly naked under him just hours ago.

 

He sits up with a start when he realizes his body feels chilled, not comfortable as he had been against the human furnace. There is no one beside him and no one in the kitchen that is in easy sight from his position. Speaking is apparently not an option as he attempts to call out for Harry, forcing himself up to put the kettle on so he could feel at least a little himself.

 

Squinting against the sun he checks the bathroom and then both bedrooms, finding himself alone in his small apartment. His heart sinks to the floor, shoulders slumping in the same direction. As he had fallen asleep he had let himself entertain the idea that they would wake up smiling, kiss a bit on the sofa before making breakfast together, hold hands over their morning tea. Maybe they would even shower together as well. Letting his hopes soar had been a mistake. Instead he found himself sliding sprinkled Poptarts into the toaster and making himself up an abnormally large cup of tea.

 

So Harry had ditched him. They had fooled around and Harry ran. It serves him right for taking advantage of a drunken straight boy. These things never turn out well, he knew that, yet he still allowed it to happen. He overanalyzed the situation over his cuppa, scoffing at himself for every move he’d let himself make. Harry had probably just been drunk and horny, Louis more than willing to help him out. That’s why his eyes had been closed the entire time, probably imagining a big breasted blonde bimbo at his crotch instead of his gay friend. He had just used Louis.

 

A long scalding shower has him feeling ready to rejoin the world of the living, dressing in another pair of sweats with every intention of staying hidden in his flat the entire weekend.

 

The remains of their evening on the coffee table were mocking him, a strong reminder of what he had fucked up the night before, what was meant to be a childless lads night with his new friend. He had all the dishes angrily shoved into the sink and had returned to the couch before finding the piece of paper on the floor. There was scrawling handwriting on the back of a receipt in red pen, sticking out to him as something more than just some discarded trash.

 

Bakery calls. xx. H

 

Of course. Harry almost always opened the bakery each morning, even if he had one of his employees coming in as well. It was part of his dedication to the business he owned and Louis had always respected him for that. Maybe he had spent his whole morning stewing over nothing. Harry had just gone in to work, that’s all.

 

He changes into some jeans, his plans shifting with the new discovery. There was never a time that Louis wasn’t in the mood for some bakery treats anyway. He would go visit Harry.

 

The sun is already high in the sky, warming on his skin despite the cool fall air. It feels nice with just an unzipped hoodie loosely hanging off his shoulders. Walking to the bakery is always a fairly short journey, smiling to himself with all his anger gone by the time he arrives.

 

It is busy, even for a Saturday morning. He is surprised to find a fairly long queue inside leading up to the counter. Sure he hasn’t known Harry for that long but anyone would be proud of someone so young having such a successful business.

 

The normal ding of the door is barely audible over the small crowd as he makes his way inside, glancing around at all the full tables including his usual one.

 

“Where’s my reserved sign?” he mutters to himself, making his way over to the side of the counter instead.

 

“Hey Louis! Good to see you! Looking for Harry?” Beckie asks as she slides a decorated sugar cookie shaped like a maple leaf into a paper sleeve.

 

“Yeah, can you grab him for me?” he asks, leaning his forearms down on the counter.

 

“He’s not in today, love. I’d say check the house but he wasn’t answering the door an hour ago when we needed more almonds,” she says, having to move away to help the next customer.

 

“Oh yeah, thanks. He said something about that, I just forgot,” he lies with a wave of his hand.

 

So Harry had lied about having to open the bakery. It hits him hard as he turns to leave, weaving around bodies to make it to the door and then out into the fresh fall air. Under different circumstances he would have just walked around to the path behind the store to knock at his door. Even if Harry had returned home the message was loud and clear. He hadn’t wanted to face the morning after and it spoke volumes.

 

Louis isn’t angry anymore as he drags his feet along the pavement on the way home. He is hurt. Massively hurt. His first sexual contact in nearly two years and this is what happens. Foolish and smitten is what he is. Foolish to let himself give into drunken urges.

 

His sweats welcome him home and that is that.

 

 

***

 

Several days later Louis runs into Harry on their way home from school. There hasn’t been any contact from him since the hand written note and Louis hasn’t bothered to try contacting him. It has been easier that way.

 

“Louis, hey!” Harry smiles, the first to speak, snapping him out of the dealing with the small crisis of Elsie’s ripped tights, “A customer told me about a little fall festival they’re having over in her neighborhood this weekend. I thought it might be fun to take the kids over!” His smile is big and relaxed, Emma balanced on his hip effortlessly despite his bean pole appearance.

 

Okay so they aren’t going to talk about it. Not only are they not going to talk about it, Harry acts as if nothing has changed, that nothing has happened between them. There is no acknowledgement anywhere on his face. Not even a hint of a knowing smirk, anything in his expressive eyes, not even a wink or a blush at the fact that he’d seen his important bits naked. So that is how its going to be then. It meant nothing to Harry while something inside of Louis has been changed irrevocably. He’s had plenty of sex for sex’s sake through his life but it wasn’t supposed to be like that with Harry. It hadn’t been like that with Harry. On his side of things, anyway.

 

He plasters a smile on his face.

 

“Yeah! Yeah that sounds great,” he pushes enthusiasm that he hopes is convincing. If that’s how Harry wants to deal with what happened then he can play along, too. Harry wasn’t drunk enough that night to black out, there was no way, so his apparent amnesia is a choice. If his excuse to leave hadn’t been a strong enough message, this definitely made it clear. He had been used.

 

 

***

 

Friday comes and Louis finds himself in the middle of a surprisingly enjoyable festival with a full lager foaming in a plastic cup clutched in his hand. The kids are on their third turn inside the bouncy castle and he has to admit that this has turned out to be a good idea. Things feel back to normal between them and while his ego and heart may feel a bit bruised and beaten, he is at least in recovery and he’s glad he hasn’t lost Harry completely. He has come to need him as a friend almost as much as he needs his mother in his life. Like a sunny patch of wild flowers in the middle of a dark forest, Harry is like a breath of fresh air in Louis’ daily routine that sometimes seems as suffocating as a smokey bar.

 

As the sun embarks on its journey down past the horizon with a display of brilliant oranges and reds, the kids begin to yawn and start clinging to their fathers. They load them up into the red wagon Harry frequently pulls Emma around in (he thinks it is more empowering for Emma than a stroller) and head off down the sidewalk. Louis feels a happy buzz from both his beverages and his company. By the way Harry stumbles over his own feet more than usual on the uneven concrete, he has definitely been enjoying himself as well.

 

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Louis asks once they’ve reached his building. He curses his loose tongue as soon as the words are out but the endearing stretch of Harry’s lips around a yawn gives him the urge to tuck him into bed with a kiss on the forehead and a ruffle of his curls. His desire to be closer to Harry is apparently ten fold when he’s been drinking, as proven once before, and with each passing moment he finds he is worse about keeping it to himself.

 

To his surprise Harry just nods as his lips stretch open in another wide yawn that gives Louis an obscene view of the warm pink cavern Louis needs to have wrapped around his dick immediately.

 

“Huh?” Louis shakes his head to snap out of his temporary stupor.

 

“I asked if you could grab the backpack?” Harry repeats, Emma already resting on his hip while Elsie holds onto his free hand.

 

“Right, yeah,” he nods and swings the bag onto his shoulder, scooping up Wesley to hide the blush he knows has been forming on his face from his impure thoughts. The sound of clinking keys echoes down his hallway as he attempts to unlock his door, holding back curses as the door sticks in the frame of the old building. It takes the full force of his body to swing the door open, laughing off his embarrassment while the rest of the crew follow him into the apartment.

 

“Go brush your teeth,” Louis instructs the twins, setting his boy down on his feet, “No dawdling, its already late. And Elsie grab a nightgown for Emma to borrow, please.”

 

He watches Harry disappear down the small hallway behind the children before turning to put their drinks and snacks away from the small cooler they had taken with them. His body is buzzing at how domestic they already seem in the same space and it ignites fantasies that he really shouldn’t entertain.

 

“Really Harry?” he mumbles as soon as the smooth voice floats to his ears, “Do you have to be so Snow White or Mary damn Poppins all the time?” The song is familiar but he can’t place it even if it sends him into flashbacks of helping his mum put his sisters to bed. His voice is so soothing that if the bakery thing doesn’t work out, he is sure mothers would pay a fortune for him to calm their babies with his sweet songs. Louis’ heart begins to thud in his chest as he sneaks closer, peeking in on the group and their bedtime routine.

 

Singing hasn’t been a common occurrence in his apartment yet his twins seem right at home. He can easily imagine bedtime at their sleepovers, Harry singing while his children crawl into bed calm and starry eyed. It is easy to feel a moment of jealousy as his own babies look up at Harry with such pure love. It is also a frightening feeling that his children have formed such a visibly apparent bond with someone who isn’t family.

 

Harry catches sight of him once the girls are tucked into bed, sending him a fond smile that makes him painfully aware of the mirrored fond he has been sporting on his own face. He clears his throat and straightens his body, fixing his fringe while entering the room to the soundtrack of Harry’s gentle voice.

 

“Goodnight loves,” Louis says before he gives each of them goodnight kisses, even Emma, before leaving Harry to finish up. Alcohol, he needs alcohol. More of it, anyway. Harry Styles is in his apartment, is staying the night and is serenading his beloved hellions to sleep. Its all too much to handle.

 

He feels foolish pulling a chair up to the counter, having to crawl up onto the seat just to reach his stash of wine bottles that have been disappearing faster than the leaves outside his window. The cork pops out with a jolt, the mouth of the bottle is on Louis’ lips before the corkscrew even comes to rest on the counter. He takes a long swig of the bitter liquid, his whole face scrunching in disgust at the consuming taste, so dry his mouth feels coated like wax paper.

 

“And people pay hundreds of dollars for this,” muttering to himself as he pours a portion into a pink Hello Kitty cup.

 

“Come again?” Harry’s voice startles him from behind.

 

“The wine. Tastes like shite but there are thousands of rich people out there requesting this very bottle... probably,” he squints at the label before shrugging and filling his glass to the brim. “Would you like to sip your fine wine from Big Bird or Dora?” he asks with the cabinet open.

 

“D-D-D-D-Dora!” he sings, Louis rolling his eyes after he’s turned to grab the tumbler. Why does he have to be so delightfully endearing all the time??

 

“You are actually a 5 year old,” he hands the full glass over, eyes trained a little too intensely on lips that reappear already wine stained to a perfect deep pink.

 

“Then you probably shouldn’t be offering me alcoholic beverages Lewisss,” he draws out the S like the hiss of a snake before giggling at himself. Harry had to be a light weight. The dopey grin spread lazily over his face is the same one Louis has seen once before. The wine is probably not one of his better ideas. He tilts his Hello Kitty and takes a few large gulps, swallowing it down before it can assault his mouth more than necessary.

 

“Better arrest me,” he mumbles before shaking his head and mumbling out a “nothing” when Harry raises a questioning brow.

 

With the weight teetering towards Louis’ involvement, the bottle is quickly resting empty in the sink with two droopy eyed young fathers attempting to stay awake after a long day.

 

“Did you want the couch? Or I could take the couch... We have plenty of blankets and such,” knowing if they stay where they are he will end up falling asleep on the table top with a nasty crick in the neck in the morning.

 

“I couldn’t kick you out of your bed. I don’t mind sharing,” Harry shrugs before putting his long and lean body on display as he stretches, the smooth and appetizing skin of his hips exposed at eye level when he stands. Louis pretends to shake himself out of a sleepy daze to hide his lingering eyes, following Harry who has made himself quite at home in his apartment.

 

“Your bed looks comfy.”

 

Louis opens and closes his mouth a few times as he watches Harry strip out of his clothes like this is a regular occurrence for them. He catches a glimpse of tight black boxer briefs before his almost naked body is sandwiched between his bedsheets, the ones he sleeps with every night. Boxers were usually his choice of sleep wear as well but at the moment a full onesie seems like a better option. A fleece one even. The thicker the better.

 

“Are you getting in or are you just going to watch me sleep because that’s kind of creepy,” Harry mumbles against his pillow, eyes already closed, eyelashes resting in a fan across his cheeks.

 

“Yeah... just... felt a bit dizzy there for a second,” he lies. This is not good. If his sex dreams decide to make a come back with Harry almost naked in the bed with him he might have to pack up his family and leave the country at the first light of day. It’s a reality he decides to commit to and he pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor. His tight jeans quickly follow after he has shimmied out of them. He hesitates another moment, pondering the idea of grabbing some sweats but he’s just not used to wearing so many clothes to bed. Waking up as he is stripping out of useless pajamas has to be worse than starting out half naked to begin with.

 

His body balances close to the edge of the mattress, his back facing the warmth being generated between the sheets behind him. Its not comfortable exactly but a strategically placed pillow assures that he at least won’t crack his head open on the side table when he falls out of bed at some point during the night.

 

“Lou what are you doing? ‘m cold.” His voice is low and hazy in the space just before sleep and it resonates into Louis’ bones. “C’mere...”

 

A long strong arm is suddenly around his middle, an embarrassing squeak forced out of him as his body is far too easily redeposited in the middle of the bed. His breath hitches at the feeling of Harry flush against his back, nose nuzzling into the hair at the base of his neck.

 

“’s nice to snuggle,” he mumbles with hot breath against his skin and Louis is fucked. He forces his eyes open wide in an attempt to shake the veil of sleep, pinching his arm sharply every few seconds to remind himself that this is no time to relax. Sleep is not an option.

 

 

 

The room is still dark when he wakes in a groggy haze. His skin feels damp with sweat and for a brief moment he curses himself for leaving the heat set too high. It only takes a small shift of his muscles to remember the warm and solid body behind him. The body that has now turned into an actual furnace plastered against him. He contemplates wiggling himself free for a blast of cool air but the comfort of someone holding him effectively in place kills all of his will power.

 

Just as he snuggles his head back into the pillow a hot whimper is breathed just next to his ear. It sends a shiver down his spine and right to his dick in the exact way he had been dreading. Squeezing his eyes shut he tries to imagine old naked men with saggy balls doing the hokey pokey, the live birth of his sisters he had seen at a young and fragile age, the film over cold water on dirty dishes that have been left in the sink all day......

 

His mind stops working entirely with the next moan to assault his ears, this one accompanied by a hip roll right against his thinly clothed arse.

 

“Lou...” the low voice moans and his heart stops. Flatline. Is someone calling an ambulance? Is there a defibrillator somewhere in this apartment complex?

 

No amount of saggy geriatric balls could redirect the flow of blood now concentrating between his legs.

 

Another hip roll and Harry is hard against the crease of his ass. As awkward as this has already become, the mask of sleep Louis was justifying this as is shattered like glass on concrete when he feels warm lips press gently against the nape of his neck. The precision and tender caress of the kisses are not reminiscent of a dream fueled action. If that wasn’t the give away, the stiff and controlled movements of his body were. Despite the obscene sounds he had filled the night air with, it feels as if Harry is trying not to wake him. The fuzzy lines of the soccer ball shaped alarm clock on his side table read that it is only just past eleven. They have only been in bed an hour at the very most.

 

Trying not to embarrass him further, Louis closes his eyes and relaxes his body. Pretending to be asleep is something he has grown to be very good at.

 

Expecting Harry to excuse himself to the bathroom or just ignore the situation, the movement of his hips come as a bit of a surprise. One sturdy arm is still wrapped around him, large hand splayed out across his chest while the arm draped over top of his hips carefully extracts itself. He feels Harry very slowly and carefully inch his hips from where they had been pressed against his behind, the sudden absence of heat making goosebumps spread across his thighs.

 

A stifled and almost whispered moan hits with humid air against his neck, a nose nuzzling further into his hair and... breathing in? Is Harry smelling him?

 

His eyes fly open at the feel of a very familiar rock of the mattress, subtle but topping out the Richter scale when felt in this context. Harry is jerking himself off. In his bed. With his nose nuzzled into his hair and his shoulders held firmly back against his chest.

 

Sexual tension begins oozing out of his pores, his fingers clenched into fists to ground him from exploding in his shorts over even one aspect of this experience.

 

He can’t think clearly but even if he could he isn’t sure what an appropriate reaction to your straight friend that you are madly infatuated with jerking off with barely enough space between you for it to happen while he moans your name into your ear even is. This was never outlined in the Big Gay Handbook of his life. This is unchartered territory.

 

The seconds drag on longer than hours until Louis arm has fallen painfully asleep beneath him while holding his faux sleep position. Pins and needles that are distractingly sharp press him into action. In a motion he hopes doesn’t seem to deliberate, he rolls to face Harry with a sleepy groan. Harry freezes and in a terrifying moment he realizes he neglected to address one small detail before making his move. The straining length in his boxers falls right against Harry’s now stilled hand running parallel with the erection gripped by his long fingers.

 

There is nothing to hide behind now. Through the darkness they stare at each other like deer in headlights, their faces close enough for the tips of their noses to brush. The earth has come to a shocking halt on its access, time ceasing to exist while both men lay paralyzed in awkward positions, breath held in their lungs in suspense.

 

Louis’ first instinct as a child in his history classroom was to immediately see just how fast he could get the globe to spin, watching the whirl of colour coded countries whip past in a blur at lightning speed. That is exactly how it feels when time jerks back into motion with one shift of muscle. Harry’s warm hand is suddenly wrapped around him over thin material, eyes rolling back into his head with the satisfying relief even simple contact gives him.

 

He doesn’t hold back the moan that rips through him, surely this is just a dream anyway. If he wakes up humping his erection into the small of Harry’s back, it might already be worth it. The sensation after an eternity of only feeling his own hand is awakening and he can’t do anything but give in. Harry’s breath holds a hint of stale beer but his lips taste sweet when they meet in a heated kiss, his mouth having transformed the bitter grapes into the most addicting flavour.

 

His pants are now twisted around his ankles, too preoccupied to untangle himself and in no state to care. Harry’s hand grips around them both together, confident strokes moving from base to base and surely setting him on fire. The intimate sensation a bubble of pre cum oozing from his slit brings causes a quiver to run through his body and a whimpering moan to be fed directly into Harry’s parted lips.

 

“Want you,” he mumbles before sucking Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, letting his teeth hold it there gently.

 

“Okay,” he receives in response, slightly distorted with Louis holding his lip hostage. The confidence in his hand wavers in its grip and Louis takes the distraction to kick away the ankle restraining garment.

 

He feels drunk as he pulls Harry’s now naked body onto his, looking up at him from aroused and sleepily hooded eyes. With their dicks pressing together between them he takes a moment to gauge wether he’s still drunk from the alcohol or purely on the intoxicating and very naked boy rutting against him. He can’t tell.

 

Their bodies press together from shoulder to thigh, Harry’s lips are insistent on his until they’re both gasping for breath. He pulls back for a moment when they are both on the verge of passing out from lack of oxygen, defined biceps holding himself above Louis just enough to allow their lungs to fill.

 

“Please,” Louis whimpers desperately, eyes flitting back and forth between Harry’s in the dim glow from charging electronics. Their chests heave together in another halted moment until Harry’s hips grind down with a pornographic moan. Louis takes that as a yes, straining and then wiggling just enough to get his hand up and into his bedside drawer. He’ll have several bruises from that move later but can’t make himself care when the opportunity to have such a gorgeous dick fill him up is literally right in front of him.

 

His fingers come back with a linked ribbon of condoms and a half empty bottle of lube, definitely sending the wrong message but also exactly the supplies they need. He fumbles with the cap on the lube, anxious hands trembling as he tries to do everything at once before shoving the bottle against Harry’s broad, and apparently very firm, chest. Having the genie power to blink and nod all these tasks into reality would be a really helpful asset to have right now but sloppy or not, the end result should still be the same.

 

Harry takes the lube from him and stares at it for a moment, sitting back on his heels with his knees touching the back of Louis’ tented thighs.

 

“I’ve um... never done this,” he swallows, looking a bit helpless as he turns the bottle over in his hands before looking down at Louis’ exposed parts. Though Louis had already categorized him as a straight boy, for some reason this admission still shocks him. A mixed rush of feelings swirl around him, arousal, confusion, fluttery nervous fear. He wants to wrap him up in a protective bubble and guide him through the best ride of his life, wants to hold him and make his first time intimate and full of love.

 

“Not even to yourself??” he blurts out instead, a blush rising over his already heightened body heat. Harry just shakes his head and bites his lip, looking down at the bottle in his hands once again.

 

His dick lying heavily against his stomach and the sight of Harry’s beautifully sculpted length really aren’t allotting time for them to have a first ass penetrating experience conversation though Louis will definitely be bringing it up at a later date. Instead he takes the lube from him, squeezing some onto his own fingers and catching Harry’s hand in his. Seductively he slides the lube over his middle finger, his strokes mimicking a hand job as he stares directly into his eyes. He takes the twitch of his dick as a good sign, guiding Harry’s hand down to reach his hole. Its not an easy angle but somehow guiding someone else’s hand in a teasing circular motion does more to him than anything else he’s had near his ass for a long time.

 

One of Harry’s fingers is so long that his moan runs out of breath before the knuckles of his hand finally hit his cheeks. His body immediately craves more, pressing against the stretch in attempt to fuck himself on even the single digit.

 

“More, please,” Louis whines, too desperate not to beg. Harry dumps far too much lube onto the rest of his hand, a second finger sliding in without warning. He winces at the sharp stretch though it nearly instantaneously gets closer to satisfying the itch. They move in and out experimentally a few times, rigidly straight but they’re still Harry and they’re still inside him.

 

“Kind of... do this...” he tries to demonstrate with his fingers. Harry curls his fingers and for a moment his body flashes white hot. Harry doesn’t even know what he’s doing and somehow his fingers fit deep into Louis like a puzzle. He loses it several times until Louis huffs in frustration but not anger, pulling Harry’s hand away while he fumbles for a condom. He somehow manages to snag and rip the latex of two foils before one is successfully freed, reaching down to roll the condom on Harry’s dick himself, eagerness showing. He doesn’t bother with lube, the excess amount already uncomfortable, cold and wet between his cheeks.

 

Harry hunches himself forward, holding himself up with one arm by Louis’ shoulder, the other gripping his length as he adjusts himself into position. The lapse in confidence is written on his face as he looks up for assurance, Louis giving the go ahead with a small nod.

 

The head of his cock is blunt and wide but the way Harry bites his tongue between his teeth in concentration is more than enough to distract from the burning stretch. He’s big and probably not the most ideal choice for penetration after such prolonged celibacy but he has thought about it far too many times to back out now.

 

He’s only halfway in when Harry’s breath picks up. Burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, he mutters incoherently as his hips make shallow thrusts. Harry’s falling apart above him but the tease of friction does little for Louis and his stretched sphincters. He grabs Harry’s hips, using the leverage to tilt his own, locking his ankles around his back. He thrusts his hips up as he pulls Harry down, the motion causing him to plunge balls deep in one tight slide.

 

“Oh fuck!” they both exclaim in a passion filled unison, Harry’s hips bucking into him instinctually harder and harder in short staccato thrusts. The change is so abrupt and intense that they both desperately chase their orgasms, Louis’ hips angling to do the aiming work for himself until he’s screaming out, biting down on the first flesh he finds.

 

Harry lets out a strangled noise that sounds like it was meant to be a warning, his body shuddering above him, his thrusts coming less consistently. Louis reaches between them and grips his neglected dick for two aggressive strokes until he comes so hard his body curls up off the bed with contracting muscles, both of them collapsing in a messy sweaty heap.

 

“Holy fuck...” Harry’s wrecked voice mutters as he rolls away, pulling off the used condom.

 

“Yea...” is the only sound his mouth will produce in response, body exhausted and spent.

 

There’s a glowing haze around him like a dreamy cloud of happiness, a bliss that’s all encompassing. He hasn’t a care in the world as he closes his eyes to enjoy the high. Everything in the world momentarily makes sense.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Louis wakes with a strip of unfiltered sunlight hitting him directly across the face and wonders why his curtains aren’t closed tight like usual. If the brilliance of the sun wasn’t causing his pupils to ache even from beneath his lids, the searing heat would definitely have woken him as well. Maybe he had fallen asleep a human and woke transformed into an ant beneath a cruel child’s magnifying glass. He smacks his dry lips several times, flinching at the taste of death on his tongue before stretching out in a starfish across the bed and hiding his face under one of his pillows.

 

He pauses and peeks his face out from under the pillow just enough to see that he is the only occupant of his messy queen sized bed.

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans, rubbing his eyes as he flops over onto his back above the sheets.

 

“Papa! That’s a bad word!” he hears far too close to his face, “And you don’t gots clothes on!”

 

He scrambles to pull the covers over his crotch, squinting his eyes open to find Elsie at the side of his bed, fully clothed with french braided pigtails down each side of her head.

 

“Where are your clothes?” she asks him, crawling up to join him on the bed.

 

“Got too hot in the night,” he mumbles an excuse, rubbing at his eyes again. Its far too early for him to deal with anything even approaching a sex talk with his innocent babies. “Why are you up so early?”

 

“It’s not early papa! Harry said its past bake-rie time,” she says with a knowing nod, “He mades us breakfast but he said we couldn’t wake you up cause you were tired.”

 

“Is Harry still here?” he asks as he listens for sounds of life through the thin walls of the apartment. She shakes her head, the ends of her pigtails bobbing back and forth on her shoulders.

 

“Nope,” she pops the P, bouncing on the bed, “But he said we should wake you up so you don’t miss lunch!”

 

“You’ve got to be fu--funny,” he catches himself, groaning before he finally wills his body to sit up. The clock on the side table reads 10am and he really hopes his twins haven’t been roaming free in the apartment since the crack of dawn. “Right then. Can you grab papa some pants from the laundry basket please?” he asks, figuring it was the best option not to unnecessarily traumatize his daughter twice within five minutes.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Its been weeks. His light hearted attempt to joke about not leaving him breakfast has received no response. His complements on Elsie’s hair and praise about his skills in hair dressing and otherwise have received no response. His attempt to confirm their next play dates have also disappeared into cyber space.

 

He had visited the bakery both as a threesome and alone on several occasions, each time just missing Harry. Louis had a sneaking suspicion the curly baker was hiding out in the back each time but he wasn’t desperate or pathetic enough to infiltrate the kitchen if his presence wasn’t wanted. Each time he bought more than his usual allotment of baked goods, head hanging low on his way out the door.

 

There are at least five stages to rejection and Louis has hit each one of them hard. Through the rest of the weekend it had been easy to shrug it off. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone or left it at home by his bed. Maybe he’s just forgetful and forgot to pay his phone bill. Maybe Emma accidentally flushed it, his contacts swirling down into the sewers along with his unread messages. It was something to cling to.

 

Anger hit with a vengeance. Several dishes in his kitchen were sacrificed for the sake of rage, Harry’s name mentally scrawled across the cheap china as they shattered into the sink. He still felt bad for the barista who had taken the brunt of his rant about overpriced trendy coffee and misspelled names on said overpriced coffee cups. He’d write her an apology letter when he was feeling up to it, maybe.

 

During a particularly emotional viewing of Brokeback Mountain, he felt he had a revelation. Harry was straight. He wasn’t looking for anything from Louis. Experimentation is completely normal but it doesn’t mean shoving his dick up Louis’ ass would flip some magical switch. Louis got it out of his system and gave Harry a glimpse at the other side. Everything would be better this way. His fantasies had been just that, fantasies. It was good that Harry had run back off to hetero land before he was stuck in the plot of this movie, always wanting more while Harry finds the picture perfect vagina to fuck at night.

 

He sent the twins off with his mother when the depression began to creep in. Even the sight of the Dora the Explorer cup, wine now a dried red film on the bottom, causes him to burst into tears. He missed his friendship with Harry. He missed the texts, the calls, how well their kids got along as they watched them together. He just missed Harry. The amount of effort he had put into their friendship was more than Louis had even put into saving his relationship with Aiden. All of it for nothing. All of it for him to let their dicks and hormones to destroy everything they had. And it had been so so good as well. Harry was obviously inexperienced but even with unrefined skills it had been mind blowing. Louis cried himself to sleep mourning the loss of all the life changing orgasms Harry could have given him after just a few lessons on finding the prostate. He couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge the blow job lips that he had not had the pleasure of feeling.

 

By the time the twins were back home and preparing for another week at school, he felt defeated. There are so many relationships that occur throughout a lifetime, only one or two will last. It’s a giant pill for him to swallow but eventually he’ll get it down. He had thought what he had with Aiden was love, was for life, yet he had walked away with the knowledge that it was best for everyone involved. That was how he would have to look at Harry’s exit from his life. There was no hope for the closure he had been able to hash out with Aiden, he would never know just what had gone through his head either time he left louis alone after sharing such a intimate experiences. He would probably never know. It is what it is. Louis thinks that might just be the perfect motto for his life.

 

He’s sure the sun doesn’t hang quite as high in the sky as it used to and the sweets from the chain store bakery down the opposite street never quite satisfies the craving but that doesn’t mean that life doesn’t move on.

 

 

 

***

 

 

“Papa?” the small voice startles him awake. Louis has always considered himself a heavy sleeper. There had once been a huge hail storm, wind damage, car windows cracked, roofs damaged. Louis slept right through it. The truth is, he could probably sleep through anything. Anything but the small voices of his children which he now heard on an instinctual level.

 

“Hi baby,” he mumbles, pulling Elsie up into bed beside him. She immediately curls into his warmth, her face pressed into his chest as his arms snuggle around her. He breathes her in and smiles, pressing a soft kiss against the top of her head.

 

“Why don’t we get to see Emmie anymore?” she asks softly into his tshirt, her little fists clinging to the fabric. Her voice is so forlorn, sad enough to make his heart ache through his chest.

 

“Oh Ellie, I don’t know. They’ve just been really busy. I’m sure you’ll see her again sometime,” he lies to her, fingers brushing over her hair as she lets out a small sniffle.

 

There are several topics he isn’t sure how to approach with his children. Luckily they are still too young for the sex talk and so far he hasn’t had to deal with the death card yet either. There has yet to be a boyfriend situation to discuss with them and most of life’s tough topics have yet to come up. He supposes that this is the closest to a boyfriend situation that he has had to deal with since Aiden left the family.

 

It is a harsh pill to swallow. Harry and Emma had become such regulars in their life so quickly, in and out so naturally like members of their own family. He laughs bitterly as he thinks of the negative effects this has had on his children without him even receiving the proper benefits of a relationship on the other end. How do you address a breakup that never actually happened?

 

“I miss her,” she hiccups against him, his tshirt growing damp with tears and probably snot as well. “We were gonna draw unicorns,” she mumbles through a yawn.

 

“Unicorns, huh? Where did you learn about unicorns?”

 

“Her daddy sings songs bout them,” she snuggles her face against him, making herself comfortable with half of her body on his chest. He rubs her back gently as his heart begins to ache. Those were the exact things he had come to love about Harry. When he was on the prowl before settling with Aiden, he never found himself searching for the qualities that Harry naturally possessed. He went for the dangerous catches, the wild ones, the ones that would show him a good time before parting ways right after. All the things you would search out when looking for a good fuck. He hadn’t been looking for a partner.

 

Even as he found himself settled into domesticity after he officially moved into Aiden’s large flat he was still in it for fun, always searching out opportunities to spice things up. He would get himself a bit too tipsy at black tie events so Aiden would have to punish him a bit when they got home. They would order loads of expensive take out and watch raunchy cable television shows or at least attempt to watch them before they ended up naked and curled into crazy positions on he floor.

 

Hind sight is always 20/20 and seeing Harry fitting so perfectly into the roles a daddy should have pointed out every mistake he had made when deciding to become a parent with Aiden. He never had visions of Aiden curled up with their babies reading them stories or singing to them. He never thought of Aiden patiently braiding their daughter’s hair while making breakfast. He could never imagine Aiden throwing on a tutu and some gaudy fake makeup for a little dress up time.

 

He doesn’t have to imagine any of those things with Harry. That’s just who he is. Despite his deeply ingrained self doubts, Harry is a good father. Louis admires it. Louis is drawn to it. He wants all of those things in a partner.

 

Had they been in a proper relationship maybe coming to terms with everything would be easier. They’d have closure and boundaries. He would be able to definitively tell his children they had to move on.

 

But they hadn’t. Harry had disappeared with the light of morning and that is all he has. With Elsie curled up against him, breath even and body heavy against him with sleep, he realizes that it hadn’t just been him. All three of them had been abandoned. He waltzed into their lives with unicorns and songs and fun activities then left them behind with silence and unanswered questions. His children are sad too and he isn’t quite sure how to handle that.

 

 

***

 

 

It had been a bad night. Early winter colds started making their rounds and gifted the twins a case of the sniffles. Between the rounds of medications and needy crying of one and then the other, he had finally given in and let the population of his bed increase by two. He also found it so considerate of his children to alternate keeping him awake. By the time his alarm was ringing out at 6, he had maybe logged an hour of decent sleep.

 

Thankfully his first class of the day doesn’t start until 10 which leaves him ample time to find some caffeine before he has to collect himself for the day. Tea is usually his drink, kettle always on and supply always stocked, but on this brand of morning, the only option is strong black coffee. Just the thought of the cheap pre-ground coffee in the teacher’s lounge makes his stomach churn like dark coloured acid. He can’t put himself through that today.

 

There is a small coffee shop he passes between the twins’ school and his own though he has never stepped foot inside. Usually there is no reason him to visit the shop. He prepares his own tea at home, carrying it to work in his #1 Papa travel mug the kids (his mum) had given him for his last birthday.

 

A soft chime sounds above his head as he pushes open the glass door, a welcome sound in comparison to the obnoxious bells store owners often attach. There is still a small line from the morning rush but after a quick check of the time, doesn’t deter Louis.

 

Louis has never been a morning person. Scheduling all of his classes past 11am in uni had not been a good way to transition into the future. It hadn’t been until his internship that he had been required to be awake and also functional before 9am. When the twins came along, he kissed his late morning lie ins goodbye, trading them for pudgy fingers and slobbery toddler kisses. Just because he had been forced to change his sleeping patterns didn’t mean he was always an angel about it. Its easy now to wake with a disgruntled groan and move on with his day but Louis Tomlinson without sleep could turn into a bear at any moment. He mutters to himself about reading the menu like a normal person when the girl at the counter asks the barista question after question about the items they offer. It really isn’t turning out to be his greatest morning.

 

He finally makes it to the front of the line, ordering his double espresso with an irritated quirk to his voice. As he waits for his drink to be made, he turns to lean against condiment station, crossing his arms over his chest with a small huff. It takes him but a moment to zero in on the table across the cafe. It feels like deja vu in so many ways yet entirely different.

 

“Harry fucking Styles,” he says under his breath with a sharp bite, eyes narrowing in on his hunched posture and wild hair popping out from beneath a beanie.

 

He is exhausted from a long night with sick kids, he is trying to find a moment to compose himself, to ready himself for a long day and of course there he is. The coward has the nerve to show is face somewhere Louis just might be and its enough to set him off.

 

Grabbing his double espresso, he stomps his way across the room with a determined purpose, weaving between the occupied tables on the way without unlocking his eyes from his target. A few choice words are building up on his tongue, close to boiling over and directed right at that boy.

 

With each step, though, he loses more and more of his momentum, draining out from the top of his head to the tip of his toes as he comes into closer focus. Harry looks absolutely defeated, in a new state of broken when all you can do is just stare down at the pieces. His shoulders are hunched in on themselves more than usual, a hand holding his face up against the table. A cold mug of tea sits in front of him, a swirl of dust collected at the bottom from its time sitting undisturbed. The hair peeking from beneath his beanie seems ratted and unkempt, the rest of him looking greasy and unshowered. His unoccupied hand fingers at the corner of a worn looking envelope and its entirely impossible to be angry with him in this state.

 

“Harry...?” he questions timidly as he hesitantly takes a seat across from him, “Are you okay?”

 

He lets out a small unimpressed laugh as he shakes his head. “Of course you of all people would be here.”

 

“I can go...” he battles the wave of hurt that washes over him with the harsh greeting, ducking his head in embarrassment as he moves to leave.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he amends softly, sliding the envelope into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, “I just meant... I don’t know what I meant. Of course it would be you to find me.”

 

“You haven’t exactly made yourself easy to find,” he decides to throw in, hurt and anger still strong and fresh for him. Harry lets out another sad excuse for a laugh and that’s when Louis catches how glassy his eyes are, how close to breaking he really is. He cools his tone, leaning forward across the table to catch his line of sight. “No really Harry, are you alright?”

 

He raises his eyes to the ceiling, attempting to keep his tears at bay but Louis catches the small shake of his head in the process.

 

“No. Not really,” he whispers after a moment, voice soft as if he is afraid the volume might make it too real.

 

“What’s wrong? Is it Emma?” anxiety spiking through him with a million possible scenarios all at once.

 

“Emma’s fine. She’s with my mum,” he tells him softly as he pulls the flannel sleeves of his shirt down over his hands before pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes. “Why do you have to be like that? All caring and concerned and just... perfect.” He mumbles the words out softly but Louis just catches them, confusion ignited ten fold. Has he come on too strong? Was it not normal to feel a connection to his daughter?

 

“I...” he opens his mouth but finds himself speechless. He isn’t sure if it is a question he needs to answer but he wouldn’t know how to anyway. A silence stretches between them as Harry presses his hands against his eyes, a deep crease growing across his forehead.

 

“I went on a really bad date last night,” he finally says and Louis’ heart begins to drop. Of course he’s still dating but it feels like a punch to his gut to hear it acknowledged.

 

“It started out alright and she was pretty enough. It was another blind date from someone at the bakery. Everything should have clicked between us. Everything that should have made sense was right there in front of me and it just... it didn’t.” Louis isn’t sure he wants to hear any of this but he doesn’t have the power to walk away from it either. All of his emotions are telling him he should have no sympathy and yet he does. He wants to slide his chair around the table and wrap him up in a hug, wants to sooth him until the heartbreak doesn’t matter anymore.

 

“She said everything right. Every question I asked her, every question she asked me... by all logic we should have been compatible but I just wasn’t in it. The only thing I could focus on was that it wasn’t her that I wanted across the table. Her laugh started to grind at my nerves and I just kept ordering bottles of wine until I realized she barely had a glass from each. The drunker I got, the more miserable I felt until she finally just got up from the table and left. She just left me there. And I didn’t even care that she left me there.” Harry tries to hold back a sob that still escapes at a noticeable volume. People are staring now and Louis suddenly feels protective.

 

“Come on, let’s get out of here, yeah?” he says softly as he stands up. He slides his arm around Harry’s shoulders and guides him out of the shop, forgotten espresso still in his hand. Its still holding its warmth so he sips it until they come across a small park, steering them to one of the benches. Harry has been hiccuping back sobs so he gives him a moment to calm down, the nippy breeze snapping him into full consciousness.

 

“Is it about Lily?” he asks when Harry seems to have his breathing in check. He rolls his watery eyes and lets out a little laugh, shaking his head as he looks down at his fingers fidgeting with his rings.

 

“No. Its not about Lily. Not really,” he shakes his head again, his lips poised like he has more to say but isn’t quite ready yet. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, appearing to gather himself. He chances a small glance at Louis before diverting his eyes yet again. “The person I wanted across from me was you, Lou,” he says so softly Louis may have missed it had he not been paying attention. But he had been paying attention and the words make his heart stumble, veins suddenly filled icy fluid.

 

“Pardon?” he stutters out after a moment, not ready to believe he hadn’t hallucinated.

 

“You, I wanted it to be you,” his voice sounding almost angry with himself for saying it. “I wanted it to be you sitting across from me laughing while you pointed out all the pretentious things on the menu and I wanted it to be you asking about Emma and the schools I’ve been looking at. I wanted to tell you about the new things I’ve been trying at work. I just wanted it to be you. And the more I drank the angrier I got that it wasn’t you and the more confused I got that I wanted it to be you... So I just kept drinking and woke up on a buddy’s couch this morning. You’re probably the last person I should be having this conversation with,” he says with a sad laugh wet with the tears that had started to fall down his cheeks.

 

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he finishes softly, nervously turning his ring around his pointer finger.

 

That was a fair statement for Louis as well. He sits back against the bench and stares off across the street, the cars passing by his unfocused vision with a blur.

 

“I’m sorry Lou. I didn’t mean to put this on you,” Harry says with a small hiccup, wiping at his eyes again. “I wasn’t expecting to see you right now.”

 

The espresso starts sending jitters through his limbs and makes it increasingly difficult for him to sit still. Harry is right. He is definitely the wrong person to have this conversation with. The violent urge to grab his face and kiss him passionately is just as strong as the one ready reach out and slap him for making him feel like some type of experiment. They had fooled around not just once but twice and here Harry sits apparently having an ‘am I gay?’ revelation while Louis’ heart is already on the line.

 

“I have to go to class now, Harry,” Louis says almost robotically as he gets up from the bench. He can’t deal with this right now. The information is still too fresh for him to make any sense that doesn’t involve an irrational reaction.

 

“Lou, I’m sorry,” he hears through a sob as he begins to walk away. He doesn’t look back, forces himself not to, and makes his way to work.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Though mostly past their illnesses, the kids are still sniffly and cranky by the time they make it home. Louis is on autopilot as he has been most of the day. He sends the kids off to change out of the school uniforms and turns to empty out their lunch boxes in the kitchen. It is a rough night getting the kids through bath time and into their bedtime routine but the apartment finally calms to a gentle quiet.

 

 

Just as he dozes off in front of a flickering tv he jolts awake to the sharp rapping of knuckles against the wood of his door. The twins have been in bed less than an hour and with the fear of having another sleepless night, he bolts to the door to answer before another round of knocking begins. He doesn’t have time to think about who the visitor might be before a rough looking Harry is standing before him. Louis stares at him dumbfounded for a moment before he can process the situation, brain still fuzzy as he wakes up. Its possible Harry looks worse than he did in the coffee shop earlier and it at least cracks Louis’ walls enough to allow him to swing the door wider to let him inside.

 

“Where’s Emma?” he asks tiredly as the door closes behind them, an awkward energy hanging between them.

 

“Still at my mum’s,” he replies with a rough voice, pulling his beanie off to run his fingers through his wild hair before replacing the beanie over top of the mess.

 

“What are you doing here Harry?” he jumps right to the point. His patience has been growing thinner all day and right now all he wants to do is turn everything off and curl into his bed.

 

“I needed to talk to you Lou. I’ve been thinking about it all day and its been so hard waiting until I knew the twins would be down.”

 

Louis motions to the couch. If this is going to happen he at least wants his body to be comfortable while the rest of him is painfully crushed. He doesn’t want to have the ‘I like you but I’m straight’ conversation, doesn’t have the ability to pretend to sympathize as he assures him its okay and ushers him out the door. He doesn’t have it in him. They both sit, Louis watching as Harry slides his rings up and down his fingers with shaking hands. The window of Louis’ patience is about to close when Harry finally speaks, letting out a shaky breath.

 

“I never really considered this a possibility,” he starts, watching the twist of his rings like it gives him focus, “I had never really thought about it before. I was too hung up on Lilly and then finding Emma a good mum that it really never crossed my mind. I got together with Lily so young that I never contemplated anything else, that there were parts of me I didn’t know about,” He pauses to let out a long breath, collecting himself. “And then I met you. You barged into my life and you... you gave me another perspective. I was trapped in this little box thinking I wasn’t doing anything right. Every night I had to tell myself to get it together, to keep it together and every day I never felt like I was. And I didn’t even realize how rooted to that mindset I had become. It was the only thing I knew.

 

When I met you, you sat across from me and looked at me like I mattered. I know that sounds so stupid and cheesy but you did and it made me trust you. It made me want you in my life. You changed me. Louis, you sat with me and let me cry and embarrass myself but I knew you understood. Fuck, it felt so validating when you didn’t look at me with pity and you just fucking got it. I didn’t have to justify or backtrack on anything I said and it was liberating.

 

You made me start feeling things again and it scared so much. It was overwhelming and I couldn’t handle it. I had been numb for so long in this bubble of self hatred that had become a safe space for me. I wanted to shut it off, I tried to shut it off but I craved it at the same time, fuck it was so confusing... I kept making excuses and telling myself it was a bad idea... but then you’d be there and it felt good, so good Lou. It felt good to feel things and to watch you with Emma and watch you with the twins... It felt like everything, Lou. My life felt full and I wanted more, craved more... And then... Then we slept together and I wanted to, I did, don’t think I didn’t. Never think I didn’t. It was so good and I wanted it so bad even if I didn’t realize what it all meant. But when I woke up it was all too much. Your hair was in my face and your thigh was between my legs and it was suddenly too real. I couldn’t handle it, didn’t know how to handle it. It was overwhelming to want something so much but not understand it, not let myself admit it and I ran. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, not even Lily. I’ve never been so confused. I’ve never done any of this, I don’t know how to do any of this...” he motions between them, brows twitching in concern each time something doesn’t come out quite right, “I’ve only ever dated women and I know how that goes. I don’t know how to do any of this. I know I was a coward and I know I probably fucked this all up...”

 

Harry slides his fingers into his hair and rests his elbows on his knees, the closest he can get to curling in on himself in that position. Louis takes a deep breath and studies him, none of this feels rehearsed and the heartfelt ramble seems genuine. It doesn’t mean that the hurt Louis has been feeling isn’t still a phantom in his chest and it doesn’t mean that forgiveness is on his tongue just yet.

 

In fact, the bolt that has taken residence in his chest begins to tighten as he listens to Harry. He still vividly remembers his own sexual awakening so different yet so similar to Harry’s. No matter what orientation, there is a moment of knowledge and then acceptance that he feels everyone must go through at some point in varying degrees. He had been young for his own but can still remember every detail of that one life defining moment. Pinned under a girl from his class, he had wondered if he would always have to concentrate so intensely to stay hard with a hand on his dick that was not his own. He was too embarrassed to bring it up around his friends and was starting to think that maybe he just didn’t like hand jobs. When it finally started to feel good, when he was stifling moans with his family just walls away, that was his moment revelation. He found his eyes trained on his David Beckham poster pinned on the opposite wall of his bedroom and that was it. He had come hard in her hand the second he let an image of a man pinning him down enter his head for the first time. It had been the weirdest night of his life.

 

“I want to be with you Lou. I want to go on dates and watch stupid movies with the kids. I want to make dinner together and go grocery shopping. I want to learn this with you.”

 

Louis stops him right there, “You want me to teach you to be gay...”

 

“No! No of course not... Not like that. Well kind of, I mean, I’ve never... Just with you, once...” Harry looks so distraught, eyes brimming with tears and voice holding an edge that he might let out a sob with any of his words. “I know I acted like a dick and I haven’t handled any of this well but Louis please!” he begs, shifting closer to him on the couch, “Please Louis, I’m begging for forgiveness, I’m begging for you to give me a chance. It was all real but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. I want that back. That’s what I want to learn with you.”

 

Louis feels torn. There is a giant fork stabbed right in the middle of his road and both sides have the potential to lead him to a fiery death, either will surely lead him to pain.

 

“I don’t want to be an experiment, Harry. What happens when you decide this isn’t what you want? You won’t just be hurting me. You’ll be hurting me AND the kids. Emma, too. I’m not sure if I’m at a point in my life where participating in an experiment is a wise decision. I’ve already been in a relationship that ended like that. We adopted the twins and then after the fact Aiden realized that he really didn’t want kids in his life. And where did that leave me? A single father starting all over again. I can’t casually date right now, Harry. I want a partner. I want someone I can see in my future, that I can rely on being in my future. Wesley and Elsie are already confused and upset that you haven’t been around. I can’t just recklessly bring you back into their lives because you’ve just realized you might be gay. What if I wake up alone a month from now because you ‘couldn’t handle it’? Because its ‘too real’?” he says using finger quotes as his voice becomes louder, pitch slightly higher with the speed of his words, “I can’t go through that again, Harry, I just can’t. I have been so miserable and angry and hurt and really just heartbroken. I let myself get carried away and I let myself fall in love with you and then you left me feeling it was one sided. I’m already wedged a good step into the process of getting over you and I can’t let myself get that emotionally invested over an experiment.”

 

Louis had watched every emotion cover Harry’s face with his words. He wanted the words to sting, he wanted them to hurt. Harry had caused so much pain with his actions that he needed to stab him back, needed to make him bleed a little.

 

He feels out of breath as he stares, watching Harry closely as he waits for the counter attack. He waits for Harry to insist this is different, waits for him to apologize for the hurt he’s caused, waits for anything other than what is actually happening. Harry is fucking smiling. He isn’t just smiling, he’s grinning. He’s trying to hide it behind his hand but his dimples are giving him away. His dimples and the way his eyes brighten with something so purely happy that Louis loses himself in it.

 

“You’re in love with me?” his dopey grin spreads, not putting any great effort into concealing it now. Its extremely contagious and he feels the corners of his mouth stretching up into a grin of his own. “I thought assuming you just liked me was being very optimistic!”

 

“Yea, I think I am,” his own voice sounds sickeningly fond to his ears. “I mean I’m not happy with you at the moment and I still mean everything I just said... but yea.” He always thought letting himself be this vulnerable again would be nerve wracking and scary but just like everything else with Harry, it just feels natural. The words come out as easy as breathing and the smile stuck on his face feels so good that he lets it stay.

 

“I think I am too. I think that’s what this is, what I was trying so hard to not see,” he grins, pulling at his bottom lip, “Can I uh... have a hug?” His voice is shy and timid but also hopeful as he looks at Louis with wide trusting eyes.

 

“Sure, why not,” he says with a little shrug, leaning in to let Harry haul him against his body.

 

“I really am so sorry Lou,” he mumbles softly against his ear as his arms tighten. The warmth of their bodies together prolongs their embrace, neither particularly wanting to let go.

 

Louis is the first to pull back, his heart feeling adjusted into its proper position for the first time in months, maybe years. He offers a warm smile, reaching up to nervously fix his fringe.

 

“I’ve been carrying this around with me for weeks now,” Harry says after a moment, reaching into his pocket to pull out the worn envelope he had seen him with earlier. “I didn’t know if I should send it or give it to you or just forget about it. Every day I said I would drop it by and then every day I talked myself out of it again...”

 

Louis reaches out hesitantly to take the offered item, turning it over in his hands a few times before giving him a questioning look.

 

“Its an invitation to Emma’s birthday party,” Harry slides his fingers through his hair, his confidence visibly wavering, “Its this weekend already.”

 

Louis opens the envelope and pulls out the pink and purple glittered invitation that he is certain Emma helped to hand make. The date, time and location are scrawled out in Harry’s flowing hand in the non-glittered space that indicates that it is, in fact, this coming weekend.

 

“The twins will be excited. They have been asking about the two of you every day,” he smiles as he also pulls out a wallet sized preschool photo of Emma, looking up to the blush colouring Harry’s cheeks.

 

“Adults too. I mean you’re invited as well,” he glances down bashfully for a moment, “I really went all out for this one. I might have tried to distract myself with planning it.”

 

The shy smile creeping over Harry’s face is enough to make Louis want to launch himself at the boy, covering his cheeks with kisses before claiming his swollen lips. He holds himself back, though, knowing he shouldn’t just give in to the cherub in front of him.

 

“Yea, of course I’ll come,” he nods, “Until then though...” He pauses and takes a moment to look down at the invitation in his hands, needing to focus away from Harry’s open expression. Raising his eyes, he meets Harry’s, gathering his confidence. “Until then I really need some time to think. I’m not saying no and it isn’t a punishment but I think its best if you don’t call or text me until then. Give me a few days, yeah? And either way we’ll talk after the party. Is that okay?”

 

“Oh yes Lou, of course that’s okay! Take all the time you need!” he agrees quickly, head nodding enthusiastically as he grabs one of Louis’ hands in both of his. There is a hint of pain and rejection showing through his eyes but the hope there is much stronger. That hope gives Louis the strength to hold on to his request and not jump right into his arms.

 

“I just need to clear my head about it,” he squeezes Harry’s hand back and offers him a warm smile. “Either way, we’ll talk,” he assures.

 

They stay like that for an extended moment before they seem to snap back into reality.

 

“Yeah, I should be going I guess,” Harry says awkwardly as he pushes himself up, standing above Louis. He follows suit to walk him to the door, holding it open while Harry adjusts his shoe. “I’ll see you Saturday then?”

 

“Yeah, Saturday,” Louis nods, hand hanging on to the door knob as he watches Harry start walking down the hallway.

 

“Harry, wait,” just before he walks out of sight. Harry glances back at Louis standing in the door frame before turning his body to face him. Before thinking about it too long, Louis takes the few quick steps to close the space between them. He hesitates a moment before pushing himself up onto his toes and pressing their lips together. Its short but sickeningly sweet and he pulls back with a lovesick grin plastered on his face.

 

“See you at the party, yeah?” he offers one last smile before skipping back to his apartment feeling especially light on his feet.

 

 

 

***

 

 

It is both fortunate and unfortunate that Louis barely has time to dwell on their conversation much over the next few days. Between exams for his classes and the twin’s activities, he barely feels like he has a chance to breathe. He hasn’t had time to focus on making a decision but that doesn’t mean everything around him doesn’t remind him of Harry. Its so distracting that he has a serious concern he may have made Harry an answer to several questions on the exam he is set to give shortly. Thankfully they had discussed scenes from When Harry Met Sally for several exercises so he hopes it works itself out.

 

When Friday night finally rolls around, kids tucked snugly into bed and the building quiet, Louis isn’t quite sure where to even start. With the positive image of having Harry back into his life edging its way back into his head, it feels like he has already made a decision.

 

He hasn’t let anything be about himself for years. Even the split from Aiden hadn’t felt about him at the time. In the end he know it had been about himself but at the time it had been about the kids. He would rather them grow up with one loving father instead of one plus a neglectful presence.

 

This feels different. Harry doesn’t feel like someone to abandon anything or anyone lightly. Even his disappearances didn’t appear to be an offhanded choice. Louis respected that even if he had been hurt in the process. He couldn’t help it, really.

 

Harry had stepped up when he became a single parent when he could have walked away from the situation. That also says a lot to Louis, especially after hearing the details. Harry doesn’t feel like an empty promise. His instinct tells him Harry isn’t an empty promise. Maybe that is what he needs to trust for once. Maybe he should trust it for himself.

 

 

***

 

 

Harry hadn’t been lying when he had said he was going all out. Instead of approaching the cottage, it feels like they are approaching a small carnival. There is a bouncy castle inflated in one corner of the yard and a small petting zoo set up along their street. It seems that Emma’s entire preschool class has been invited and various adult chaperones are milling about along the edges of the frenzied children. The air holds a bit of a chill but the jackets don’t seem to be holding anyone back from having a good time.

 

The twins both squeal in excitement and yank at Louis’ hands in attempt to reach the party faster, dragging him along until he finds himself in the middle of it all. The kids escape and go running towards the bouncy castle line leaving Louis to take it all in alone. The spread of baked goods is impressive but its nothing compared to the beautifully decorated unicorn cake sitting proudly at the head of the food table. Of course cakes are a vector of Harry’s profession but the detail still impresses him. He has never seen Harry’s frosting skills past the sugar cookies at the bakery that change shapes with the seasons.

 

“Louis! Hi!” Harry jogs over to him with a wide smile. There is a slightly awkward exchange between them where neither quite know how to greet each other. A hug hangs in the air but a handshake is far too formal.

 

“This looks amazing!” Louis says instead, his hand brushing up to touch his hip in an acknowledgement he hopes will assure Harry. His dimples deepen at the touch, moving his own hands to rest on his hips.

 

“Its a bit much, I know,” he says with a proud but bashful grin, biting his lower lip to contain it.

 

“No, it really looks great,” Louis assures him as Harry is called away for important birthday party business.

 

“Help yourself! Make yourself at home!” he tells him as he takes a few steps backwards, stumbling over a small child in the process. Louis just laughs and shakes his head before attacking the food table.

 

Harry, as he host, remains occupied for the rest of the party. It feels comfortable between them and he finds himself fondly watching Harry precisely cut the birthday cake or save a child from certain death by small goat. It feels even better when they catch each other’s eyes across the yard, sharing a small smile that warms Louis from the inside out each time.

 

In no time the sun is hanging lower in the sky, slowly slipping past the horizon as all the guests slowly depart. Louis struggles to make his way into the house with a twin on each hip and then up to Emma’s room. It hadn’t been discussed but felt like a given that at least the kids would be staying over tonight. He isn’t sure if Harry is still up to their talk after having such a draining day but he doesn’t stop Louis from putting the three babies to bed together.

 

He knows its not expected of him but he still finds himself back out in the yard with a garbage bag in his hands, easily moving about the grass picking up stray cups and plates that had been carelessly tossed aside. They work together in silence for a while, glancing up to exchange grins every now and then. They meet to fold the tables up together, fingers brushing in movements they both know are not accidents.

 

“It was a good party,” Louis says, the sun now asleep for the day with the street lamps and porch light guiding their clean up.

 

“I thought it went pretty well,” Harry glances up hesitantly, the loaded aura between them now bubbling into the air. Louis nods knowing that this is in his hands now, on his terms. He isn’t quite sure how to start or even if he’s sure of his decision.

 

“I don’t want to tell the kids, not straight away,” he just dives right in, startling Harry slightly with his blunt approach. “I don’t want to explain this if it isn’t going to work out... We can just kind of... feel this out between us first. Give us room to make sure this is what we want.”

 

“I think that’s a good start,” Harry says seriously, nodding his head.

 

“If you decide that this isn’t what you want, I need you to be honest with me. If you’re scared or overwhelmed or whatever else you said, you need to be honest with me. You have to promise you won’t just disappear again. Those are my terms,” he says, making sure to keep his voice from sounding demanding. Adult relationship decisions should be made between adults and he doesn’t want to start his relationship trying to have the upper hand.

 

“I won’t, have doubts I mean, and I will. I promise to talk to you,” he nods seriously, every ounce of his attention focused on the conversation.

 

“Then I think I’d like to try,” a shy smile creeps onto Louis’ face, warming completely as Harry gathers him up into his arms.

 

“Thank you Louis, thank you so much. I promise I won’t run, I promise,” Harry mutters against his ear, breath warm and heavy against the dropping temperature. Louis lets out a less than manly shriek as Harry lifts him up and swings him around, both laughing with happy relief as his feet touch back down to the ground.

 

“Come on!” Harry grabs his hand, pulling him across the yard to the bouncy castle that still stands inflated in the corner.

 

“Harry, I think these are made for children only,” he warns but doesn’t stop him as his long legs disappear inside. “Okay, fine,” he gives in without a fight, giggling when he finds Harry already tentatively bouncing after crawling inside himself.

 

“Live a little, Lou!” Harry laughs as he starts to bounce in earnest, head nearly touching the top with each jump. It doesn’t take much to get Louis to jump as well, hands linked as they laugh together like oversized children. He hasn’t felt quite this light since probably the time when he could still be considered a child himself and its exhilarating. Life has been far heavier than he even realized, the contrast more obvious than night and day. He’s soaring higher than even his catapulted jumps and for the first time, he may have finally found a place to be free.

 

Harry loses his balance and takes Louis down with him, both a heap of pink faces, heavy breathing and uncontrollable laughter.

 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he wheezes out through a laugh, sorting out their limbs until Harry is laid out on his back. He maneuvers himself to kneel between Harry’s parted thighs, the long legs naturally winding around his hips.

 

“We can be ridiculous together,” Harry grins up at him, hair splayed out around his head like a curly halo. Their bodies bounce as Louis attempts to tickle his sides, large hands all too easily putting a stop to it. The boy is beautiful beneath him, the flush of his cheeks reminding him of the last time they had been out of breath together. He leans down to properly kiss him for the first time since Harry had disappeared, his lips accepting his eagerly. Their lips had fit well together before but now when their kisses weren’t laced with doubt and guilt, it was on an entirely new level.

 

The bounce of the giant air mattress between them makes him grin against their kiss, rocking his hips forward with each subtle bounce. Heat between them rises with both in their kisses and the simulated thrusts and Louis is quickly hard in his jeans. He can feel the hard line of Harry’s erection against his stomach which makes him moan against his mouth. His hips slow to a sensual grind, settling his hips down until his contained dick is pressing against Harry’s cheeks.

 

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he mumbles, pulling back when Harry stills beneath him.

 

“I um...” Harry starts, eyes darting a little nervously before meeting Louis’, “I don’t think I want to be on that end of gay sex.” Normally a comment such as this might spark anger in Louis but the earnest way Harry is looking up at him gives him pause.

 

“First of all it isn’t ‘gay sex’,” he starts, raising finger quotes, “Its just sex. And if you really don’t like it, that’s okay. Some guys just don’t.” Louis shrugs a little before repositioning his body to lay against Harry’s long torso. “But I think you would like it... I know I could make you feel so. good.” Louis leans down to breathe the last words against Harry’s ear, curly hairs tickling his nose as Harry’s breath catches in his throat.

 

He smirks to himself as he slips his tongue out to trace along the shell of his ear, pressing soft kisses to his sensitive skin before latching on just behind his ear lobe. A tremor runs through Harry’s body beneath him which only spurs him on, fingers slipping beneath Harry’s jacket and then shirt to trace light teasing circles around his nipple.

 

“I’d kiss every inch of you,” he breathes out seductively against his skin, lips moving south, latching to his skin in various places on the way to his collar bone. “Make sure you are really in the mood.”

 

Despite his previous hesitance, Harry doesn’t stop his narrative, breath shaking his chest unevenly.

 

“Spend some time leaving my mark everywhere until I make it down to this,” a smug smirk pulls at his lips as he grabs him through his tight jeans receiving a deep groan in response. “It’s not just about the sex,” he continues as he strokes over his trapped erection, “Its about the experience.”

 

Louis briefly curses the skinny jeans that look fantastic on his long legs as he struggles to get them unbuttoned, sliding the zipper down as soon as he succeeds.

 

“I’ll make sure you’re nice and hard,” he continues as he slides his hand into his pants, pushing the fabric down just enough to free him into the chilly air. “Maybe use my mouth to distract you from the cold lube when I touch you there for the first time.”

 

Harry lets out a small squeak with his words, breath coming out in a shudder.

 

“Sink down until you hit the back of my throat when I finally slip a finger in and then again when I slide in two.” The boy is already squirming beneath him, whimpering with Louis’ teasing strokes.

 

“I’ll find that spot and make you fall apart until you’re begging for my cock, needing more that my fingers just can’t quite give you,” he’s stroking faster now, their bodies bouncing with the momentum of the motion in waves like a water bed. Harry doesn’t try to suppress his volume as Louis swipes a thumb over the head of his cock, precum lubing his hand with each stroke.

 

“I’ll go slow, let you adjust to how it feels,” he moves his lips back up to his ear, whispering deeply in a voice fueled by lust. His hips press forward, the line of his hardness settling against the part of his cheeks. There are far too many layers of fabric between them but even if they were to get naked, he isn’t the type to carry condoms or lube around with him, especially to a children’s party.

 

“Once I’m in, I’ll wait until you beg me to move, beg me to give you what you need,” he mumbles, lips connecting with his hot skin as each word leaves his mouth. He presses his hips firmly forward to give the illusion of being buried to the hilt, his own body hot with anticipation. “And then I’ll start moving, thrusting until I find the right angle.”

 

He matches the now slow pace of his hand with his hips, using the momentum of each bounce to simulate each thrust, gaining a whimper as a reward.

 

“I think you’d love having me inside of you,” he tells him, the pace of his hips speeding up. “I’ll find that spot that makes you black out, hitting it every. time,” he punctuates each word with a thrust, humping up against him hard enough to give himself some much needed friction. Harry is a moaning mess beneath him, heels digging into Louis’ ass to meet each movement.

 

“That’s it babe, I think you’d love it,” he whispers, all of their motions becoming frantic with the slow build. Louis’ hand is a blur on his shaft and the pain against his own confined dick just adds to the experience.

 

Just a few strokes later has Harry unraveling, dick jerking in his hand as he paints his jacket with ropes of come. The scene is oddly erotic but its nothing compared to the contortions of his lover’s face. He shoves a hand down his own pants, giving himself a desperate squeeze as he makes a mess of his boxers, the smug satisfaction of being the caused of the boy beneath him who looks absolutely wrecked.

 

He falls onto is back so they are laying side by side, eyes unfocused on the dark ceiling of the children’s bouncy castle that is very much no longer innocent. A laugh falls from his mouth as he thinks of the next group of children to play at the site of their very x-rated encounter. Within seconds he has dissolved into laughter, Harry throwing him a confused expression before he can’t help but join in.

 

“We’ve desecrated a children’s play area,” he manages as his laughter begins to die down, pushing his fringe of his forehead with a happy sigh. “Do you still get your deposit back if it lights up like a Christmas tree under black lights?”

 

“Shut up,” Harry fondly rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he tucks himself away and does up his pants, doing his best to avoid smearing the mess on his jacket over the vinyl.

 

They lay together in a blissful silence until Harry turns his face to take in Louis’ profile. Mirroring the action, he repositions himself to meet Harry’s eyes, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable cold wet patch in his pants.

 

“I guess I do want to try that,” Harry tells him with a small grin, finding Louis’ hand between their bodies.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Louis replies smugly before his smirk softens, “So what do you say, do you want to try to give this us thing a go?” he asks, both feeling the weight behind his light hearted question. Harry’s face warms, dimples making an appearance with the hopeful sparkle in his eye that has started to beam brightly.

 

“Yeah, I really do. I think I’m finally ready.”

 

His voice sounds sure as they beam at each other, letting themselves ooze cheesy romance in the privacy of the bouncy castle. They may not be perfect and they may not even last but as they stare at each other with the promise of a happy future, Louis knows its a risk he’s willing to take.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
